Home for the Holidays
by dustypencils
Summary: An unfortunate circumstance causes Olivia Pope and Fitzgerald Grant paths to cross for the first time in an unpleasant way. Read how they overcome their initial interaction, how they connect again, and how they deal with the ups and downs of being in a relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story was inspired by an acquaintance who shared with me, over the Christmas holiday, her hesitance about entering into an inter-racial relationship with a man who is pursuing her. Of course I thought of my favorite couple. This is not going to be long, perhaps five to seven chapters. Just needed to get the idea out of my head.

 **Chapter 1. Meet the Grants**

Standing in her taupe bra and panties set, Olivia rummages through the walk-in closet looking for her white silk blouse. She hates when she can't find what she's looking for. Living between two apartments is becoming increasingly difficult. She has to have two of everything – one for her apartment and one for his.

"Hon, have you seen my white blouse – the silk one? I want to wear it today."

Fitz walks into the closet buttoning his shirt.

"You know if you just moved in you'll stop losing clothes," he says, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I like my apartment, Fitz", she says, rifling through the hanging clothes.

"Well, you're going to have to give it up once we're married."

"Here it is! How did it get mixed in with your shirts? You have a lot of shirts, Fitz."

"So, when are we getting married? What's the date?" He asks, kissing down the side of her neck.

"Fitz, we just got engaged last week."

"I don't believe in long engagements", sliding down her bra straps.

 _"How many times have you been engaged?"_ Sliding her bra straps back up she turns with a raised brow and looks into his beautiful blue eyes. She will never tire of looking into his eyes.

"Two, three, maybe four times", he says, laughing into her neck.

"You better be kidding", she says, pulling away from his embrace.

"You know everything there is to know about me, babe. I've told you about my family. You've seen the pictures."

"I don't know _everything_ , Fitz. I haven't met your family. I'm sure they have a lot to say, especially Tristan. I still can't believe how much you two look alike."

"He hates when people say that." He slips his hand into her panties and she gasps.

"Fitz, we don't have time. I have to meet the PM (project manager) at the site."

His fingers thrust in and out and she begins to ride his hand.

"Fitz ..."

"I love you, Livvie." He sucks her ear as he brings her to her peak and she collapses against his chest.

"Baby, you don't play fair", she says breathlessly. "You just made me late for work."

"No, I just made you cum." He turns her around and gives her a searing kiss, gliding his tongue in her mouth. He loves kissing his fiancée'.

"You're a bad boy."

"Never have been. You can ask my mom when we get there for Christmas."

" _What?_ _We're going to your parents' home - to Wisconsin for Christmas?"_

"Yup. In three weeks. I booked our flight two months ago."

" _Two months ago?"_ She asks with a look of surprise spread across her face.

"Yup. Thought Christmas would be a good time to announce our engagement", he smiles brightly.

"Fitz, you just proposed last week", she says, buttoning the white silk blouse.

"Knew I was going to marry you on the plane ride from our conferences last October. You just needed to catch up", he says, kissing and licking her shoulder.

"Liar", she swats him on the chest.

"I'm not. In the span of a few hours you went from being the rudest and most annoying person I'd ever met to being the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You were so sad and I just wanted to take care of you – to make things better."

"Awww, you never told me that."

"Didn't have to. Now kiss me again."

 **Wisconsin – Christmas Eve**

"Come on, Liv", Fitz hollers from the huge wraparound porch. "It's freezing out here", wiping his runny nose with the back of his gloved hand. "I'm going to leave you out ..."

The front door swings open and a sea of bright faces shout _Merry Christmas_.

 _"Fitzgerald!"_ His mother, Anneke, screams. _"Welcome home"_ , cupping his face, blue eyes smiling at blue eyes.

"Mother", he says, smiling and kissing her on the cheek.

"Get on in here, son. Are you trying to heat all of Wisconsin?" Gerry, his father, booms. He shakes his elder son's hand then pulls him into a bear hug. "My, my Fitz. You sure have bulked up. You're all muscle now. Are you still doing that kickboxing?"

"Good to see you too, dad. And it's taekwondo."

"Take off that wet coat, Fitzgerald", his mother says, helping her son to slide his coat down his arms. She shakes the moisture from the coat and hangs it in the foyer closet. "Go sit by the fire in the parlor and get warm. Gerry, give Fitzgerald something to drink that will warm him up."

Fitz looks over his shoulder wondering where Olivia is.

"Stop fawning over him, Anneke. He's just fine."

As Fitz walks toward the parlor he sees Tristan, his younger brother, coming down the grand staircase.

"Well, well, well. Look who has decided to grace the family with his presence."

Fitz stops in the hall and gives his slightly inebriated younger brother a tight smile. The brothers shake hands and hug each other.

"Merry Christmas, brother. I see you've started celebrating early", Fitz says.

"I have and you have to catch up. Let's go."

The almost identical brothers walk toward the parlor when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get that", Tristan says. "I'm sure our dear old parents want to spend every minute they can with their favorite and perfect son."

"Don't start, Tristan. Let it rest for once."

Fitz stands by the fireplace with his father sipping on a healthy tumbler of scotch, the family drink.

"Son, I thought you were bringing your girlfriend ..."

 **XXX**

Olivia finally found the glove she was searching for. She can't figure out how one glove ended up in the snow pile at the side of the car. It probably has something to do with Fitz wanting to make out with her before they went into the house. She picks up the bag filled with gifts from the freshly plowed sidewalk and sloshes up the steps of the huge house. She can't believe he actually left her outside in the cold. She'll have some choice words for him when she gets into the house. Olivia rings the doorbell with her gloved hand.

Tristan walks down the hall to let in whomever is pressing on the annoying doorbell. He has always hated that damn buzzer. He opens the door and is startled to see an annoyed looking woman dressed in a white coat and white fur hat holding a black leather glove in one hand and what seems to be a bag full of holiday gifts in the other hand. She is absolutely beautiful, he thinks, for a...

"Hi", Olivia says, smiling brightly and extending her hand. "I'm Olivia and you must be Tristan. Fitz has shown me so many pictures. You two could be twins."

Tristan bristles at the woman's comment. He has long grown tired of hearing how much he and his older brother look alike. He's been trying to establish an identity separate from his perfect brother all of his life. And, unfortunately, it hasn't been going too well.

"And you are?" Tristan asks tersely.

"Olivia. Olivia Pope. I'm Fitz' fiancée."

Cold and in desperate need of a bathroom, Olivia is growing more annoyed as her fiancé's little brother gawks at her and asks her 20 questions.

"Do all of you Grant men have a habit of leaving women out in the cold?"

Tristan steps aside to let Olivia in and the cold Wisconsin air sweeps through the house. He smiles and thinks, this ought to be good – really good. Tristan hangs Olivia's coat next to Fitz' in the foyer closet, grabs her hefty gift bag from the floor, and walks hand and hand with her to the parlor.

"This is a beautiful house, Tristan. The pictures don't do it justice."

"Seems like my brother has shared a lot of family pictures with you, Olivia. Unfortunately he has not afforded the family the same courtesy. We've not seen any pictures of you."

Olivia frowns, unsure of what to make of Tristan's comment. Tristan stops Olivia in the doorway of the parlor and scans his parents' happy faces as they drool over their precious Fitzgerald.

"Mother, father ..." Tristan calls out in dramatic fashion, getting everyone's attention.

The Grants halt their conversation and look over at Tristan. Mrs. Grant clutches her pearls at the sight of the woman. Gerry raises a questioning brow. And Fitz beams brightly, with the biggest smile spread across his face until he notices his brother is holding Olivia's hand.

"Mother, father. This is Olivia", swinging their entwined hands in the air as in victory. "This is Fitzgerald's _fiancée!_ " He says with a devious grin.

Mrs. Grant gasps and covers her mouth with her small hand. Still holding Olivia's hand, Tristan walks her over to his brother, who is grinning like an idiot.

"Your _fiancée_ , brother." Tristan bows and smiles slyly at his older brother.

Fitz wraps an arm around Olivia and kisses her deeply on the lips.

"Your lips are cold", he smiles mischievously at her.

"You left me all alone", she whispers. "You're going to pay."

"I told you to hurry", kissing her again. "Stand here by the fireplace with me and get warm."

Olivia moves in front of the fireplace and Fitz wraps his arms around her waist. The couple is oblivious to all of the eyes looking at them. Gerry clears his throat to get his son's attention.

"Fitzgerald", Gerry says sternly. "Is there something you want to tell us?" He looks between the couple, bewildered, as his wife seems to be frozen in place on the sofa. Tristan smiles to himself as he stands at the bar pouring himself another scotch.

"Father, mother..." Still smiling proudly. "This is Olivia - _my fiancée_. I was going to announce our engagement later this evening, after dinner, but it seems like there are _two_ big mouths around here", he says, looking over to his brother then smiling at Olivia and kissing her on the temple.

"Well, congratulations, brother", Tristan says, raising his tumbler in the air, and eyeing his stunned parents. _"Isn't this the best Christmas present ever, mother?"_

Anneke Grant glares at her younger son and quickly recovers from the shock of her elder son's holiday surprise and remembers her manners. She stands from the sofa and hesitantly walks over to the fireplace where her Fitzgerald and his fiancée are standing with her husband.

" _Engaged? Fitzgerald, we didn't even know you were seeing anyone seriously."_ His mother says as politely as she can muster.

Fitz smiles, holding Olivia closer.

"Olivia", grabbing the young woman's hand lightly. "Our Fitzgerald is so full of surprises. We had no idea. It's so lovely to meet you, and congratulations, dear."

"Olivia, I echo my wife. This is quite the surprise. Fitzgerald didn't give us a clue. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant, Mr. Grant. I am delighted to finally meet you all. I'm sure our engagement is a bit of a surprise."

Fitz is grinning from ear to ear as Tristan chokes on his scotch, watching the tense scene unfold before him. His brilliant brother has always been so naive.

"Tristan", Gerry growls. "Stop lapping up that stuff and go out to the car and get your brother and Olivia's bags."

"Aye, aye, sir." Tristan says, raising a half-empty tumbler to his father.

"Fitzgerald, dear", smiling at her son. "Why don't you take Olivia upstairs to the guest room so she can freshen up? I'm sure she's a bit tired from the long flight. You can rest a while before dinner, Olivia."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant. That would be wonderful." Olivia is grateful for the woman's suggestion because she has to pee really, really bad.

Fitz grabs Olivia's hand and leads her out of the parlor.

"Mother, Olivia will be staying in my room. We are engaged after all."

"Of course. Of course, dear."

 **XXX**

Olivia takes a quick shower then walks into the bedroom drying her hair. Fitz is laying across the bed reading something on his tablet.

"Babe, how do you think that went? It seemed a bit awkward."

He looks up from his tablet and smiles when he sees her in the short robe revealing her legs. He walks over to his fiancée and wraps his arms around her ass and kisses down her neck.

"I love you so much, baby - with everything that's in me." They begin to make out.

Fitz backs her to the bed and pulls the ties holding her robe closed, revealing her nakedness. His dick begins to twitch.

"Everything will be fine", he says huskily, as he lowers her onto the bed.

"We can't, Fitz."

He slips out of his clothes and stands before her, in all of his glory. He strokes his dick and she licks her lips.

"Please, baby", he moans.

She wraps her full lips around his pulsating member and he moans with pleasure. She runs her soft, wet lips up and down the length.

"Baby, you make me feel so good", running his hand through her hair.

He pumps into his fiancée's mouth getting close to his pleasure, unaware the bedroom door isn't fully closed and someone is watching them.

 **XXX**

Tristan sits across from Fitz and Olivia at the dinner table and watches how attentive his brother is to his fiancée. He watches Olivia scoop the mashed potatoes from the bone china plate and slide the silver fork through her plump lips. His dick quivers because he's seen what those lips can do. He takes another sip of scotch.

"So dear, how did you and Olivia meet?" Anneke Grant asks.

Fitz smiles and lifts her hand to his lips. Tristan frowns.

"The most annoying woman I'd ever met and I knew immediately she was going to be mine."

"Babe", she swats him on the arm lightly. "I wasn't that bad."

"You were, but I used my Grant charm to win you over."

Olivia rolls her eyes and smiles, reflecting on their encounter.

"We met at a conference. Well, after the conference actually", she smiles somewhat sadly.

"So you're also a physician?" Gerry questions.

"No, I'm not. We were at two different conferences that were held at the same hotel."

 **Flashback – October Last Year**

On the third day of the five-day conference Olivia receives a phone call from James, her best friend, informing her Ella, her goddaughter, is in the hospital. Ella apparently fell off the slide at the playground and hit her head. She's in a medically induced coma until the swelling on her brain goes down. Olivia changes her flight immediately to get the first available flight in the morning to Phoenix. She doesn't sleep at all that night. She is jittery all night as she packs her bag and talks with James on the telephone throughout the night.

James and Michael asked Olivia to be Baby Ella's godmother when they adopted their daughter four years ago. Olivia was honored her friends trusted her to be the godmother of their precious baby girl, and she takes her role seriously. She visits Ella weekly at the Beene's and schedules their private play dates and sleepovers at her apartment. They go shopping together once a month and she even taught the little girl how to swim.

 **The Next Morning**

Fitz stands outside of the hotel talking with David, his old college roommate, about their upcoming whitewater rafting vacation in Colorado when the doorman beckons him over to the waiting taxi.

"David, we'll talk soon", he says, looking back and waving to his friend as he pulls his luggage behind him.

"Taxi, taxi!" She shouts, waving her hand in the air. She runs to the waiting taxi and almost knocks down the man pulling his luggage.

Fitz looks at the little dynamo in shock, thinking he's never seen anyone so rude.

"My goodness", she says while sliding into the back seat of the taxi.

Fitz and the doorman look at the little woman incredulously.

"Excuse me, ma'am", the doorman begins. "This taxi belongs to this gentleman. He's been waiting patiently for a taxi for over 15 minutes."

"What?" She's already punching something into her phone and is not looking up.

"Ma'am, I will be more than happy to hail you another taxi."

"No, that won't do", finally looking up from her phone. "I have to get to the airport right away. My flight leaves in an hour and you know how long it takes to get through security these days."

"Maybe you should have gotten up earlier", a no longer patient Fitz says waiting on the sidewalk.

"What? Did you say something?" Looking at the man. "Are you being rude?"

"The only one around here who is being rude is you. So please, get out of my taxi."

Olivia folds her arms across her chest and looks straight ahead. She has to get back to Phoenix as soon as possible. The driver, the doorman, and Fitz all look at each other in disbelief.

"Okay, what are we going to do here?" The driver growls. I can't keep holding up traffic.

The doorman looks at Fitz helplessly.

"Sir, if you want to make your flight I suggest you share this taxi with this - _lady_."

Olivia heard the doorman's slur and rolls her eyes.

"Fine", Fitz says, reaching for the front door handle as the doorman places his luggage into the trunk of the car.

"Sir, you're going to have to sit in the back, I have all of my equipment on the front seat.

Fitz rolls his eyes again and sighs heavily. He wonders if this day can get any worse. Olivia tightens her arms around her body and slides closer to her door as the disgruntled man slides into the backseat of the taxi.

"So, what airline are you two going to?"

"Delta", they say in unison.

"Delta it is", the driver says, zooming off into the traffic.

 **XXX**

 _Flight 2673 to Phoenix is now boarding._

Olivia sits in her aisle seat eyeing the empty window seat, hoping no one claims it. Once it appeared that everyone has boarded the plan, she moves from her ticketed seat to the window seat. She hates the aisle seat where people bump into her leg as they go back and forth to the bathroom and the drink cart knocks into her arm rest. She closes the window shade, pulls her mask over her eyes, and settles in for the long and unexpected flight home.

Fitz is delayed boarding his flight because he stopped help a little boy he saw choking on a piece of candy. After opening the child's air passage and assuring the parents the child was going to be all right, Fitz is escorted by an airline attendant down the gangway to board his flight. He looks at his phone to confirm his seat number as he walks up the aisle of the plane. He silently thanks Lauren for booking him a window seat. He hates the aisle seats.

As he approaches his row it seems like someone is in his seat, already asleep and wearing an eye mask. He clears his throat trying to get the sleeping woman's attention, but to no avail. He clears his throat again.

"Sir, you're going to have to take your seat. The captain is preparing for take-off soon", the flight attendant says.

 _"Someone's in my seat"_ , he says, pointing to the sleeping woman.

The flight attendant looks over at the sleeping woman and gives him an understanding smile.

"Ma'am?"

 _Silence._

 _"Ma'am?"_ The flight attendant says a bit louder, shaking Olivia gently on the shoulder.

Olivia lifts her mask and looks over to see who has disturbed her sleep.

"Ma'am. I'm sorry to wake you but you're in this gentleman's seat."

Olivia looks up at the man standing with a phone in his hand and rolls her eyes at the familiar face.

"Why can't he sit _there_?" Pointing to her empty aisle seat.

 _"Because that's not my seat",_ He says frustrated. _"That's not the seat I paid for."_

"You're such a baby", she says under her breath but loud enough for him to hear.

 _"And you're the most annoying person I have ever met."_

The attendant looks between the two.

"Do you two know each other?" Thinking she's gotten caught in the middle of a lover's quarrel.

 _"No!"_ They say in unison.

"Ma'am, if you don't move right now I'm going to have you escorted off the plane."

 _"Come on, man, leave the lady alone"_ , someone yells from the back of the plane.

 _"Just sit down and let the little lady sleep"_ , someone else yells from across the aisle.

 _"Yeah, sit down so this plane can get going. I wanna get home before the New Year."_

Seeing she has the crowd on her side, Olivia smiles slightly.

"Sir?" The flight attendant says.

"Fine", turning a bright shade of red, Fitz huffs and plops down into the aisle seat. These are going to be the worse five hours of his life he thinks.

Everyone on the plane cheers as Fitz takes his seat. Olivia pulls the mask back over her eyes and curls her body toward the window. Fitz looks over at the woman and rolls his eyes; he is livid. Olivia smiles to herself thinking, he sure smells good.

 **XXX**

 _"Please return to your seats and put on your seatbelt"_ , the voice announces over the PA system. _"The pilot says we're going to experience moderate turbulence for the next few minutes - until we get through this storm cell."_

Fitz finishes reviewing the MRI file the hospital emailed him earlier, stores the laptop in his satchel, and buckles his seatbelt. He looks over at the sleeping woman and shakes his head wondering if she will sleep through the turbulence. He stares at her for a moment longer and notices for the first time how beautiful she is, even with that stupid mask covering her eyes.

"Hold on folks", the pilot says with his Texas drawl over the PA system. "This is gonna be a bumpy bronco ride for the next few minutes. Don't you worry though, this old cowboy is gonna get us through this storm real soon."

The plane begins to jolt violently and passengers' gasps can be heard throughout. Fitz grips the armrest to steady himself. The constant, rhythmic bumpiness finally jolts Olivia awake and she jumps into the lap of the passenger sitting next to her. Mask askew, she wraps her arms around the stranger's neck, holding on for dear life. First he is uncertain how to react to her, then after a moment he pulls her close and strokes her back soothingly. Olivia stays in his arms until they fly through the storm.

Once Olivia realizes the turbulence is over, she slides out of the stranger's lap and back into her seat, looking embarrassed. She removes her lopsided eye mask and pulls up the shade to see what's happening outside. Fitz stares at the woman wondering how she can pretend she wasn't just sitting in his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck like a frightened little girl.

"I'm sorry", Olivia says, looking out of the window, into the night sky. "Turbulence ... I hate turbulence."

"Me too", he smiles slightly.

She turns and looks at him with wide, frightened eyes. He thinks she looks adorable.

"I'm sorry …" she begins again. "For everything. The last 24 hours have been really stressful. I'm not usually like this - this rude and unsure."

"That's fine."

"It's not. It really isn't", she says softly.

"It's just ..." She rubs her forehead nervously. "I got some really distressing news yesterday and I just really needed to get home." She's fighting back the tears.

"I see", he says looking at her kindly.

"My best friend called me and said his daughter - my goddaughter- was injured and is in a coma. I just needed to get home as quickly as possible. I'm not usually such a horrible person."

"I don't think you're a horrible person at all. You're just dealing with an awful lot right now."

He can't believe the words coming out of his mouth. All morning he thought she was the most rude and inconsiderate person he'd ever met. Now he just wants to take care of her.

"You're being kind", she says, giving him a weak smile.

That smile sealed the deal. He wasn't going to get off this plane without getting her contact information.

"Can I buy you a drink - to calm your nerves?" He asks, staring into her sad eyes.

"No, but I'll buy you one or two. That's the least I can do for making this such a miserable day for you." She gives him a real smile that melts his heart.

"Fine. By the way, my name is Fitzgerald Grant. My friends call me Fitz."

She nods and tests his name on her tongue.

"Fitz", she smiles again. "I'm Olivia Pope", she says, extending her hand to her former adversary.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am overwhelmed by how well this story is being received, at least the first chapter. Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites. Keep it up! ;-) Here's the next installment. BTW, it will be a few more chapters before we get back to Wisconsin. We need to first find out how they became a couple.**

 **Chapter 2. Ella**

Olivia Pope is a compassionate and sympathetic woman. She feels deeply and relates to other people's problems on a personal level. Her friends are important to her, they're her family, that's why she left her conference early and is now waiting anxiously for the plane to land at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. As the plane taxies to the gate Olivia and Fitz exchange contact information, promising to connect with each other. Once the plane is safely at the gate and the _Fasten Seatbelt_ sign is turned off, she excuses herself, climbs over her new travel companion, and dashes down the aisle and off the plane as quickly as possible. Fitz shakes his head and wonders what has her in such a hurry.

Olivia arrives at Phoenix Children's Hospital in record time, she's sure she has broken a few driving laws on the way but she doesn't care. She has to get to Ella. She walks quickly down the dingy tile floors on the third floor looking for James and Michael. A man sitting at the nurses' station directs her to room 312 where she finds the two fathers huddled around their daughter's bed.

"James, Michael, how is she?" Olivia asks out of breath as she enters the room hurriedly. She looks between the two distressed men and then over at her precious little girl whose tiny body is connected to so many wires.

James jumps up immediately at the sound of his best friend's voice. He tells her about what happened to Ella, how she fell while at the playground. He tells her about the medically induced coma she is in to reduce the swelling of her brain. He tells her they're waiting for the pediatric neurosurgeon to return from out of town today to review Ella's case. Olivia crosses her arms as she listens intently to James' report on Ella. She looks between the two men nodding her head, trying to make sense of what she is hearing, then she walks over to Ella.

"Hey baby, girl. This is your godmother, baby, Aunt Livvie." Tears begin to run down her cheeks as she rubs the girl's little hand. "I need you to get better because we have _so_ much to do. Remember you promised to give me a facial on our next spa night? And we have to make those Mickey Mouse pancakes. And ..."

Olivia is overcome with emotion and brings a hand to her mouth to suppress her crying. Michael walks over and wraps his arm around her shoulders as her body shakes.

"She's so tiny Michael", gripping the man's arm tightly.

"I know. I know." And he loses his battle with the tears once again.

 **XXX**

Olivia knows she has to be strong for James and Michael. She can't fall apart because she is their support system. They need their friend, Ella's godmother. But right now she needs to get out of the room for a while. Between the incessant beeping of the monitors and her friends muffled sobbing Olivia feels like she's being smothered, like the walls are closing in on her.

"I'm going to the cafeteria to get us some coffee and snacks", she announces abruptly, reaching into her purse to retrieve her wallet.

The two men nod as she exits the room quickly and rushes down the hall in search of a restroom. She pushes open the door and runs into the last stall and breaks down in tears.The pain and suffering in the hospital room is too much – she feels overwhelmed.She shakes violently and her wallet drops to the floor and her body follows. She pounds her fist on the cool tile wall cursing the heavens for allowing this to happen.

As Olivia walks back to Ella's room carrying the tray of coffee and snacks she chides herself for being weak and selfish, for having a meltdown while her friends keep vigil over their daughter. She has to keep it together she thinks as she walks into Ella's room.

 **XXX**

When Fitz deplaned at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport he retrieved his car from the parking garage and drove directly to the hospital to consult on the case he received on his last day at the conference. He reviewed the patient's case and MRI results on the plane and ordered another MRI when the plane landed in Phoenix. The results of the latest MRI should be downloaded to his laptop by the time he gets to the hospital.

Fitz sits in his office at Phoenix Children's Hospital reviewing the chart of the four-year old African-American girl who was admitted yesterday with severe Traumatic Brain Injury. He scrolls through the file comparing the results of the two sets of MRI. His lips curl down when the second MRI confirms the injury is vascular. He shakes his head and closes his laptop. He slips on his white coat and heads downstairs to room 312 in the Pediatric Unit to deliver the news to the parents. He hates this part of the job.

Dr. Grant is informing James and Michael of their daughter's dire condition when Olivia walks into the room carrying the tray of coffee and snacks. James is beside himself and Michael is trying to console him. When she hears the doctor deliver the prognosis, Olivia drops the coffee tray and the black liquid flows quickly across the floor, and puddles around the feet of the man in the white coat. Fitz turns around at the sound and they stare into each other's eyes, shocked that misfortune is the cause of their paths crossing again.

 _"Olivia"_ , James cries out.

Olivia is at James' side instantly, rubbing her hand up and down his back, trying to console the inconsolable.

 _"Dr. Grant says there is no hope for our Ella. He says the brain damage is too extensive."_

James crumbles to the floor and Michael follows him. Their pant legs absorb the black liquid that is pooled on the floor. Olivia glares at Fitz with disdain and he looks at her helplessly.

 _"Outside!"_ She says angrily, pointing to the door. He nods and follows her into the hall.

She is fuming. _"What did you do? What did you say to them?"_

"Olivia -"

 _"What did you say?"_ She screams at him.

The staff sitting at the nurses' station looks over at the commotion and shakes their heads. They've seen this scenario too many times. Fitz dons a more professional demeanor and begins again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Pope. I reviewed the little girl's chart and -"

 _"Her name is Ella, damn it. She has a goddamn name. Don't you dare treat her like a fucking statistic."_

She is shaking violently and he doesn't know what to do.

"She has a name, Fitz. She's Ella and she's my goddaughter" Anger is now displaced by despair. "You cannot tell me, tell us, there is no hope. You have to do something", she says brokenly as she collapses to the floor.

With all of his years of medical training and practice, in this moment he feels completely inadequate. His heart is breaking for the woman he just met hours ago. He pulls her from the floor and wraps her in his arms.

"Olivia, I'm sorry, but there isn't anything I can do." He says softly while stroking her back. "There isn't anything _anyone_ can do. I am so sorry."

 **XXX**

The funeral services for Ella are incredibly difficult for everyone, especially her parents. It is always difficult to lose a loved one, but to lose a child so young just seems so unfair. Olivia is devastated but tries to comfort James as she sits next to him in the front pew of the church, across from the tiny white casket. As she stares at the casket she wonders how this could have happened. How could her precious little girl be gone so soon?

Fitz watches her from a pew at the rear of the church. He watches her at the grave site as the tiny white casket is lowered into the ground. He sees how deeply she's hurting and he just wants to take her pain away.

Fitz calls Olivia a few days after the funeral to check how she is doing but she doesn't answer her phone. After the fourth day of calling and not getting an answer he decides to go to her apartment. He rings the doorbell and knocks on the door for several minutes and there is still no answer. He's not sure what to do at this point; he doesn't have a plan. Should he call the superintendent to open her door? Hell, he doesn't even know how to contact the superintendent. Should he call the police? And say what, a woman he barely knows isn't answering her phone or door? He's perplexed as to what to do next.

"She's in there", the old woman across the hall calls to him. "I always know when she's home and when she's not."

Fitz turns around and looks at the old woman questioningly.

"Are you her boyfriend?" The old woman asks, looking at him suspiciously.

"We're friends", Fitz says flatly, not interested in talking to the woman.

"Well, boyfriend or friend, she needs one of you right now. She's in pretty bad shape - never seen her like this before. You need to go in there and check on her. She keeps a spare key in there." The old woman points to the fake potted plant sitting on the little table outside of Olivia's apartment.

Fitz is unsure of what to do. He doesn't want to violate Olivia's privacy nor does he want to leave her alone in so much pain. The old woman pulls her shawl around her shoulders and nods her head toward the flower pot again, encouraging him to get the key.

 **XXX**

Fitz walks into the dark apartment and feels for the light switch on the wall near the door. He pushes the switch and an amazing open concept room is illuminated by the recessed lights installed in the high tray ceiling. Fitz looks around the room admiring the decor.

The walls are painted pewter with chamois wood trim. Colorful large prints are hung strategically throughout the room. A huge white sofa with lots of pillows and a white fur throw draped across the arm is flanked by two taupe-colored, upholstered, mid-century occasional chairs. A large, square glass and wood coffee table sits on a platform in front of the sofa displaying two large hurricane candle holders, a blue ceramic tray, and a book on Matisse's cut outs.

A long rectangular fireplace is carved into the floor-to-ceiling, neutral-colored marble wall across from the sofa. On the wall next to the fireplace is a long, wooden credenza hosting vases and metal work. Above the credenza are a series of staggered wooden shelves featuring models of the buildings Olivia has designed. The taupe-colored, floor-to-ceiling window treatments dressing the huge windows are closed.

As Fitz looks around the room he hears a muffled sound and follows the noise down the dark hall until he finds what he thinks is her bedroom. He hears her sobbing in the darkness, the moon provides the room minimal light.

"Olivia?" He calls to her softly.

 _No answer._

Fitz enters the room hesitantly and his eyes adjust to the darkness, allowing him to see Olivia curled up in the middle of the huge, plush bed hugging a pillow and crying. He walks over slowly and sits on the side of the bed, careful not to startle her.

"Olivia", he says, touching her shoulder gently.

She looks up into his deep blue eyes and wraps her arms around his neck and cries even harder.

 _"She's gone, Fitz. My little girl is gone",_ she says in a trembling voice.

"I know. I know. I am so sorry."

He removes his coat and shoes and no words are spoken as he leans back against the upholstered headboard and stretches his long legs on top of the plush, white down comforter. He looks at her sad, tear-stained face and opens his arms, silently coaxing her to lean in. She looks at him hesitantly then crawls into his side. She lays her head in the crook of his neck and drapes her arm lightly across his stomach. He runs his hand soothingly up and down her arm as her tears roll down his neck. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, trying to quell the tears, without victory.

"Let it out, Olivia. Let it out." He holds her more tightly as her body trembles against his body.

When it's apparent she has no more tears to shed she falls asleep against his chest, and the sun begins to rise. He swaddles her in the bed covers and goes to the bathroom, his body is stiff from sitting up all night. He catches a glimpse of his tired reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands. He needs a shave and a shower. Again he wonders what the hell he is doing here.

 **XXX**

Fitz walks quietly through her bedroom and makes his way to the kitchen. He needs to call Lauren and have her cancel his morning appointments, and he needs coffee. The kitchen is beautiful with the high-end stainless steel appliances and farmer's sink, white subway tile backsplash, and espresso hardwood floor. He looks around thinking it doesn't seem like too much cooking goes on in here.

"Good morning, Lauren", Fitz begins as he rifles through the drawers looking for a spoon to scoop the coffee. "I'm going to need you to cancel my morning appointments. I have a personal emergency that I have to handle. Yes, everything is fine – will be fine." He pours the water into the coffee maker and presses the _Brew_ button. "And Lauren, tell Chief Beene I will be in the office later this afternoon."

The wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air and his stomach growls as he listens to Lauren recite his afternoon schedule. He remembers he didn't eat dinner last night so he looks into the refrigerator for breakfast food but only finds a half loaf of multigrain bread, an expired container of Greek yogurt, and a Granny Smith apple. He considers going to the store to buy breakfast but he doesn't want to leave her alone.

As Olivia walks down the hall she is curious about the strange voice she hears coming from her kitchen. She stops mid-stride in the doorway when she is confronted with the back of a tall man talking on the phone and pouring coffee into one of her mugs. Fitz turns around with the phone to his ear and the coffee pot in his other and halts his movements when he sees her standing in the doorway. They stare into each other's eyes and she takes his breath away. He thinks she looks absolutely beautiful in her bare feet with red-eyes and wild hair, and all he wants to do is take her in his arms and make everything better. Her brows furrow as she looks at him curiously, pulling her long gray sweater around her body, wondering what is he doing in her kitchen holding her coffee pot. After a moment her eyes flicker and as she recalls the events from last night. Fitz regains his composure and mouths good morning as he listens to Lauren. He smiles and holds up the coffee pot and she nods her head slowly.

"Okay, Lauren, I need to go now. Yes, I will see you this afternoon. Good-bye, Lauren."

Olivia wonders who Lauren is as she sits at the table, pulling a knee up to her chest. A bit more self-conscious of her appearance she runs her hands through her hair, trying to tame the untamable.

"Hi", he says, placing a mug of coffee on the table in front of her. "Cream – sugar?" He asks as if he's entertaining her in his home.

"Hi. Cream please."

"I would have made you breakfast but you don't seem to have much food", he says while setting the cream on the table.

"Coffee is fine. Thank you."

He smiles again and sits at the small table and crosses his legs, unsure of what to say.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" She asks with a scratchy voice.

"Your neighbor across the hall told me about the key in your fake flower pot." He smiles nervously, not sure if she is upset about him entering her apartment uninvited. After all, he is a stranger.

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Mrs. Teller is a busy-body. But why are you here?"

He becomes a bit uneasy and doesn't quite know what to say. Why the hell is he here? Why is he taking keys from fake flower pots and entering a strange apartment to check on a woman he barely knows?

"I was concerned when you weren't answering your calls so I thought I should stop by to make sure you were all right." He tries to sound confident and nonchalant, but he's holding his breath, waiting for her response.

She stares at him for a moment and blows the surface of the steaming coffee.

"I see", she says, taking another sip of coffee. "Thank you. That was very kind." She gives him a soft smile.

They stare at each other awkwardly, neither knowing what else to say.

"Well, I should be going", standing from the table with his coffee mug.

"I'll take care of that", looking at the mug in his hand.

He smiles, sets the mug on the counter, and walks to the bedroom to get his coat.

"May I call you later - to check on you?" He pulls on his coat.

"I'll be fine."

"I'll call anyway." He gives her a small smile and walks out of the kitchen.

She nods.

 **XXX**

"Psst", the old woman across the hall beckons him over with her wrinkled hand as he walks toward the elevator.

Fitz looks over at the busy-body and she waves him over again.

"Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, she just needs some time", walking back to the elevator.

"Well you better not let too much time pass before getting back over there." The old woman calls after him. "That's if you want her."

Fitz glances over his shoulder at the incredibly forward woman, shakes his head, and walks into the elevator.

 **XXX**

It's been a month since Fitz left Olivia's apartment and he hasn't seen or heard from her. His calls go directly to voice mail. He doesn't know what to think. Does she think he overstepped by using her key to enter her apartment? Is she embarrassed because he saw her in such a vulnerable state? As the thoughts run through his mind his cell phone beeps, alerting him of a new text message. He smiles.

 **Olivia:** Hi. Been away on business. Lost my phone. Lunch 2day?

 **Fitz:** Hi 2 U. Yes 2 lunch. Where?

 **Olivia:** Open the door.

Fitz walks around his desk, opens the door, and sees Olivia holding two greasy bags.

"So Miss Pope, you must think I'm a cheap date."

"I wanted to thank you for checking on me – for being so kind", she says somewhat shyly as she walks into the room.

"How did you find my office? No one can ever find my office", not realizing how goofily he's grinning at her.

"I designed this building. I know where all the bodies are buried in this place. No pun intended." She winks at him.

"You're an architect?"

"I am. Let's eat", she says setting the bags on the small conference table.

They spend the next hour catching each other up on what's been happening in their lives over the past month. She tells him that she's living in Chicago temporarily, working on a new project. He frowns. She tells him that James and Michael are grief-stricken and she doesn't know what to do - how to make it better for them.

"You can't make it better for them. Grieving is a painful process they have to go through. There are no shortcuts, Olivia." He wipes his mouth with the paper napkin then walks over to his bookshelf and slides a hardcover book from the shelf. He leans against his desk and stares at her for a moment.

"How are _you_ doing, Olivia? I know Ella's death has been quite painful for you as well." He looks at her with sympathy.

"I'll be just fine", she waves her hand in the air dismissively, trying to sound brave.

"Which means you're _not_ fine", gazing into her sad eyes.

"I just need some time", she says softly, looking down at the wrinkled paper napkin in her lap.

Fitz walks back to the table and hands her the book, and she looks at him curiously.

" _On Death and Dying_ , by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Dr. Ross wrote about the five emotional stages of the grief process. It's not a linear process, Olivia, and not everyone experiences all of the phases. You may keep this copy."

She looks at him for a moment then reaches for the book.

"Thank you", she says softly, trying not to cry.

He nods his head and admires her for a little while.

"Have dinner with me." He asks the question quickly, not wanting to go another month without seeing her.

"Can we finish lunch first?" She's trying to be playful.

"I'll pick you up on Friday - at 7:00."

Okay, Dr. Grant", she says smiling a little brighter. "And you better not be late."

 **XXX**

The old woman looks through her peephole at the man, who for the past 15 minutes, has been pacing outside of Olivia's apartment and glancing nervously at his watch. She opens her door and calls to him, interrupting his pacing.

"Psst."

Fitz turns around to see the old woman waving him over. He groans to himself, not interested in having another conversation with her.

"Why are you pacing up and down the hall and looking at your watch?"

"I'm waiting for 7:00", he says somewhat irritated.

"Why are you waiting in the hall for 7:00?"

"I told Olivia I would pick her up at 7:00 for our date. I didn't want to be late so I guess I got here a little early."

"So why don't you just knock on the door?"

It's an innocent question, but it's a question he doesn't want to answer.

"You're nervous aren't you?"

"I guess I am - kind of", he says somewhat embarrassed.

"What are you nervous about?"

The old woman's probing questions are really beginning to annoy him.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I guess I do."

"And you want her to like you too?"

"I do."

"Then that's why you're pacing up and down this hall. You're nervous because you don't know if she likes you as much as you like her."

"I guess you're right", he says sheepishly.

"Well she does like you because she's been opening and closing her peephole for the last 40 minutes, before you got off of the elevator. Never seen her do that before, so I guess she's nervous too."

He smiles brightly.

"Now go knock on her door before you walk a hole in the carpet."

"Thank you", he says as he walks across the hall with a little more confidence in his stride.

"Psst", the old woman calls to him again.

He groans and walks back over to the old woman as she adjusts her shawl around her bony shoulders.

"Make sure you take her dancing, she really likes to dance."

The old woman watches the blood drain from his face.

 _"What's the matter? You do know how to dance, don't you?"_

"Actually I don't." He looks down at the floor red-faced.

 _"You mean you can't dance - at all?"_ The old woman tilts her head to the side and looks at him in astonishment. She can't imagine there could be anyone in this world who doesn't know how to dance.

He shakes his head _no_ , feeling more embarrassed.

" _Where are you from that you don't know how to dance?"_ She's fascinated by this bit of information.

"Wisconsin."

 _"You can't even polka?"_ She asks incredulously. "Now I know they polka in Wisconsin."

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head wondering how he keeps getting pulled into conversations with the woman.

"I guess I never took the time to learn."

"Head in the books all the time I bet. Well, if you ever want to learn how to dance come knock on my door. I used to be a professional dancer." She beams brightly.

Fitz gives the woman a doubtful look, skeptical of her claim.

"I might not look like it now, but I was a pretty good dancer in my day." The old woman throws her hands in the air and twirls around, showing off her moves.

Fitz shakes his head at the old woman's antics.

"It's 7:00", she says, not looking at her watch.

Fitz takes a deep breath and rings Olivia's doorbell.

 **Earlier That Week**

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third is a logical and rational man. He is structured and organized and sets goals to accomplish the most important things he has identified for his life. He creates detailed action plans to ensure he achieves his desired results. And getting Olivia Pope to go on a date with him was one of his top goals. So here he now sits in his office at the hospital trying to plan their first date. He wants their date to go well because he is really attracted to her and she is stirring unfamiliar feelings in him.

Fitz hasn't been on a date in quite some time so he's racking his brain trying to figure out what would make a great first date. He wants it to be fun and lively because he knows Olivia is still mourning the loss of Ella. While he knows one night on the town won't heal her mourning, he hopes it will provide her a respite from her emotional pain.

Since Fitz doesn't really know anything about Olivia's likes and dislikes planning their date is proving to be somewhat challenging for him. He knows she's an architect and likes art because he saw all of the artwork in her apartment, but that's about all he knows. So he decides to Google what's happening in downtown Phoenix this Friday night to get some ideas. He smiles when his search reveals their first date will fall on First Friday. _Problem solved_.

The First Friday art walk is a cultural event in which the Jackson Street art galleries of downtown Phoenix stay open late and host receptions for their current exhibitions on the first Friday of every month. Jackson Street is an active cultural, dining, and retail district; and one of the most appealing residential neighborhoods in downtown Phoenix. It offers a range of design showrooms, inviting shops, and boutiques of all kinds and for every taste. It's the perfect first date, Fitz thinks – arts, inner-city architecture, and urban nightlife.

 **Date Night**

"So tell me, why did you become an architect?" Fitz asks as they walk down Jackson Street trying to walk off the huge dinner they ate about an hour ago.

"Well, as a little girl I really didn't like playing with dolls all that much. My dad would always say, " _Livvie, those little people will need some place to live if you don't want to play with them. You don't want them to be homeless do you?"_ She laughs at the memory.

"So I started building houses for them out of blocks at first, then I started using anything I could find in my toy chest or around the house. When I got older my dad saw that I was beginning to design some pretty elaborate houses for the dolls so he taught me how to draft my designs on paper and, as they say, the rest is history."

"What about you?" Looking up at the side of his handsome face.

"Oh, I don't design doll houses", trying to suppress a laugh.

Olivia swats him on the arm.

"Funny man. You're a funny man."

"Would you like some ice cream?"

"I think I would", she says.

They walk down the street and stop in front of the Gelateria and she gasps.

"Oh my goodness, a gelato shop. You said ice cream." Her eyes are wide.

"What's the difference?" He asks innocently.

"I can't believe you've never had gelato. If you had it before you would know it definitely isn't ice cream", she says excitedly.

"You sound like a gelato expert", giving her a silly smirk.

"Let's go inside and get some. I haven't had any in ages."

Olivia orders a cone of cherry gelato and Fitz orders chocolate. They take their cones of the creamy delight to an empty table at the back of the store. She scoops a spoonful into her mouth, closes her eyes, and moans as the cream makes contact with her tongue. He looks at her moaning with her eyes closed and knows he wants her in his life forever.

"This is good gelato. I have not had gelato this good since I lived in Italy."

"You lived in Italy?" He asks, tasting his chocolate gelato. "This is really good. It definitely isn't regular ice cream."

"I lived in Rome for three months, part of Georgetown's Study Abroad Program."

"You went to Georgetown? When? I have friends who went to Georgetown."

"I wouldn't know your friends, Dr. Grant, since you are _so_ much older than me", she says chuckling before the words finish leaving her mouth.

"Now look at who's the funny one", he smirks.

"I see you really like your gelato. You know what they say, once you go gelato you never go back." She smiles teasingly.

"And I can see why. It's amazing."

After leaving the Gelateria they stroll down Jackson Street which is teeming with people because it's an unseasonably warm November evening. They meander in and out of some of the art galleries because all of the galleries have their doors wide open, encouraging passersby to come in and check out the latest exhibitions. They stop at various street vendor tables checking out the goods they're selling, and they stop to listen to musicians playing an eclectic mix of music. It's a lively atmosphere and Olivia is having more fun tonight than she has had in a long time.

 **XXX**

"Fitz, I had such a wonderful time tonight, even though I ate _way_ too much at dinner - then there was the _gelato_ ", she smiles.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself tonight, Olivia." He's smiling goofily at her again.

"I really need to get downtown more often. It has such a wonderful mix of architectural styles. And the art galleries …

"I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time", he says, shaking his head. "I still can't believe you almost bought a $50,000 painting."

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know. I thought the price tag said $500.00."

"Well it was too funny. The woman had it all wrapped. You should have seen your face when she asked if you wanted to use more than one credit card." He's laughing out loud and she's laughing too.

"I really loved that painting, Fitz, but I was so embarrassed. I guess she never wants to see our faces again."

Their laughing trail off and they look at each other for a moment and smile.

"I guess I better get going", looking at her more seriously.

"OK", she says demurely.

"May I call you again?" He's holding his breath.

"OK." She smiles.

"OK", he says, slowly expelling the breath he's holding. "Well good night, Olivia."

"Good night, Fitz", unlocking her door and entering her apartment.

 _Yes!_ Pumping his fist in the air when he hears the locks turn inside the apartment.

 **XXX**

Eight days after First Friday Olivia and Fitz are going on their second date. He wants to take her to one of his favorite East Indian restaurants. He loves East Indian foods, but Olivia, not so much. However, since meeting Fitzgerald Grant she's finding herself doing many things she never thought she would do.

"So do you prefer designing commercial buildings or residential homes?" He asks while digging into his rajma.

"Although the firm I work for is focused on designing commercial buildings and luxury homes, which I thoroughly enjoy, I think low- to moderate-income families deserve the opportunity to live in well-designed, well-built affordable homes, not the drab, soulless public housing built by HUD up until the 1980s. Just because someone has a low income doesn't mean they don't deserve to live in a functional and attractive home, Fitz."

He nods, now dipping his bread into the chole. She sneaks a peek at him sopping up the mixture and thinks, _he really likes that stuff_. He notices she isn't eating much and thinks, _she's not a big fan of Indian food_.

"Working on those kinds of projects will give me the opportunity to do interesting and creative work. Since federal funding for affordable housing continues to be reduced, firms have to be thoughtful and innovative in designing these homes."

Fitz tears a piece of bread, dips it into the chole, and feeds it to her. She's hesitant at first but opens her mouth to receive the offering. He watches for her reaction.

"Mmm. This isn't bad at all." She says in surprise.

He smiles realizing he has to encourage Olivia to try new things. She tears a piece of bread and continues.

"Unconventional materials like corrugated aluminum, unpainted cedar siding, and green elements like solar panels and rainwater capture systems can be used to keep costs down."

Her eyes light up as she talks about her work.

"I am writing a proposal for the firm to consider forming a unit to build low-income public housing. More firms are doing it, that's why I was at the conference."

She becomes a bit sad remembering the circumstances that caused her to leave the conference early. He nods.

"I feel like I'm doing all of the talking again, Dr. Grant, and you are still a mystery."

"Okay, what do you want to know? I'm an open book. Ask me anything." He takes a sip of water then leans back in the booth.

 _"Anything?"_

He nods.

"Hmmm." Olivia puts her index finger on her pursed lips pretending to think about what she wants to ask him.

"Okay, so why did you become a pediatric neurosurgeon?"

"That's easy", he jumps right in.

She dips her spoon into his bowl to taste the rajma and he smiles.

"Ever since I was a kid I have been intrigued by the human mind, what makes us all tick - why we do what we do. I wanted to understand the behaviors and mental processes of people. I wanted to know if our behaviors are inherited or if they are learned. The whole nature versus nurture thing. I've always wondered how siblings who are raised in the same household, by the same parents, can turn out to be so dramatically different", he says somewhat sadly.

She nods, listening to him intently.

"So initially I wanted to be a psychologist and I got my Bachelor's degree in psychology. Then I decided to go to medical school with the intention of becoming a psychiatrist, but I became intrigued with neurosurgery. I had a deeper need to do more than just understand human behavior, I needed to actually see and touch the physical thing – the brain, with all of its nerve cells and blood vessels that houses of our thought processes. So I completed my residency in neurosurgery and settled on the sub-specialty of pediatric neurosurgery.

"Wow, what a journey."

"But I really enjoy helping children to lead normal and productive lives. Some of my patients suffer from uncontrollable seizures, Liv. Some have more than 100 seizures a day. If I can use my surgical skills and knowledge of the workings of the brain to help them live productive lives then I am happy."

She marvels at his dedication and passion for his work.

"Fitz, sometimes you say patients and other times you say children. Why is that?"

"In the operating room they're my patient, outside of the operating room they're children. I don't look at the children whose brains I cut open as little darlings, if I did I couldn't do my job. I've been trained to focus on the task at hand - to solve the problem."

"I see", she says softly, remembering when she screamed at him outside of Ella's hospital room.

"Fitz", she says softly, looking down at her bread plate for a moment, then looking into his dazzling blue eyes.

He gives her a slight smile, waiting for her next question.

"Fitz, was there really nothing that could be done for Ella?"


	3. Chapter 3 They're a Couple

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews. I really enjoy reading the speculation about the direction of the story and the opinions about the characters. Thanks for the follows and favorites too. I hope you enjoy this installment. Tell me what you think.

 **Chapter 3. They're a Couple**

Fitz sits with an elbow on the desk and his chin resting on one hand thinking about his last date with Olivia, which was over two weeks ago. Since then she has not been available for another date, citing her busy schedule. He wonders if she blames him for Ella's death. Does she not think he did enough to try to save the girl? Did she not like his explanation of Ella's prognosis? He wonders if this will become a wedge issue for them. He runs his hand through his hair frustrated she won't talk to him and frustrated he is unable to read her. He's horrible at reading people. He wishes she would just say what's on her mind so the problem can be resolved and they can move on.

 **XXX**

Cyrus Rutherford Beene is the chief of neurosurgery at Phoenix Children's Hospital and he runs a tight ship. He leads some of the most brilliant and talented neurosurgeons in the country who are responsible for performing complex and high stakes surgical procedures on the human brain, on children nonetheless. He needs these prima donnas to be focused and their brains need to be unencumbered when they're in the operating theater. He cannot have anything distracting and inhibiting them from performing at their highest level.

Cyrus Beene can smell from a mile away when one of his surgeons is experiencing any sort of difficulty in their personal lives. And when he gets a whiff someone is out of balance he moves in quickly to try to squash whatever is distracting them. He serves as their mother and father, wiping their overpaid noses and boosting their egos when they are experiencing doubt or emotional difficulty. Behind his back, the staff refers to Chief Beene as a helicopter parent, always hovering, paying close attention his surgeons' experiences and problems.

Cyrus does whatever is required to keep his ship sailing on course. This is why he's on his way to Dr. Grant's office, to right the ship, to get the good doctor back on course. Something is going on with his number one surgeon who has been distracted as of late and seemingly a little down in the dumps. Cyrus can pinpoint exactly when Dr. Grant's demeanor changed.

On November 10 Dr. Grant arrived to work a little later than usual and in a not-so-good mood, both behaviors are out of character for him. He is known to be punctual and dependable. While he isn't the most gregarious person, he is pleasant for the most part. But lately he's been grumpy in the operating room and in post-op meetings. He's been short with the staff and stays locked in his office all day if he doesn't have a surgical procedure scheduled. Cyrus has not seen this kind of behavior from the man in the seven years in which he has worked at Children's and he's going to get to the bottom of whatever is eating at his star surgeon and shut it down.

Chief Beene wears a scowl on his wrinkled face as he strolls up to Lauren's desk. Dispensing with the formalities he asks Lauren if Dr. Grant is in his office.

"Yes he is Chief Beene."

Cyrus gives Lauren a quick nod and makes his way over to the office door. He gives the door two rapid knocks and enters the room, never waiting to be invited. Fitz looks up from his laptop screen and sees a haggard-looking Cyrus, but when doesn't Cyrus Beene ever not look haggard.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Grant."

"Good afternoon to you Chief Beene. What can I do for you?"

"Just stopping by to see if everything is all right with my lead surgeon – if you need anything."

"Everything's fine. Why do you ask?" Looking at his screen again.

"Fitz ..."

Cyrus gets the younger doctor's attention by using his nickname. Fitz leans back in his chair and eyes Cyrus carefully, wondering where this conversation is going.

"You haven't been yourself lately - for the past two weeks actually", Cyrus says quickly.

Fitz' face hardens slightly and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"Something is going on with you - the staff is talking."

Fitz furrows his brows and glares at an agitated Cyrus.

"They've noticed - hell I've noticed that you've been distracted lately. You've been a grumpy pants - not my words, theirs. You know there is no room for distraction in what we do here. Lives depend on you to show up mentally - to be present. You've been distant with your colleagues and argumentative at post-op meetings. This is unlike you, Fitz."

Cyrus stops talking, giving Fitz the opportunity to offer an explanation. The two men stare at each other, neither willing to blink.

"Thank you, Cyrus for interrupting my day to share the latest hospital gossip", Fitz says somewhat annoyed.

Cyrus bites his bottom lip and nods his head rapidly. He knows Fitz can be a smart ass but he won't be deterred so he ups the ante when the soft approach doesn't seem to be working. He can be a monster when he has to be.

 _"This isn't_ _gossip_ , _Fitzgerald_. _I have observed your behavior over the past two weeks and something is definitely going on with you. If you don't want to discuss the matter with me - fine._ _Just get your shit together, Dr. Grant._ _We can't afford any mishaps around here!_

Cyrus storms out of the room not bothering to close the door. Fitz lets out a long sigh and runs his hand through his hair. Cyrus is right, he has to get it together. He closes the door and walks over to the windows overlooking the small park across the street. He thinks about who has him in such a funk these days and mentally outlines a plan to fix the problem. He reaches for his phone.

 **XXX**

Fitz sits in the back of the coffee shop near Olivia's office waiting for her to arrive. He arrived 15 minutes early to secure a table that would offer them a modicum of privacy. He spots Olivia as she walks in quickly looking around the crowded coffee shop. He stands, waving his hand and wearing a huge smile. He is genuinely happy to see her; he misses her.

Olivia dislikes conflict and disagreements. She tries to avoid them at all cost. She doesn't try to force her opinions or values on others and she wants to be afforded the same courtesy. If she disagrees strongly with someone she will simply avoid them. And that's what she's been doing with Fitz. While she enjoys his company immensely, he has some traits she isn't sure she can deal with, or wants to deal with.

"Hi", he says, still standing as she approaches the table.

"Hi", she says softly, sitting down and placing her large purse and sunglasses on the table.

The waitress comes over and takes their order. They look at each other nervously as the waitress walks away. Olivia knows this conversation had to happen sooner or later, she couldn't avoid him forever.

"You've been avoiding me, Miss Pope", trying to sound calm.

She feigns shock.

"I've -"

"Been busy", repeating the standard line she's been giving him for the past two weeks. "What did I do? Did I offend you?" He asks resting his arms on the table and looking into her eyes. "I want to fix whatever the problem is. I miss spending time with you, Olivia." He's laying all of his cards on the table. He doesn't have time to play games.

"Fitz -"

"We seemed to be getting along well up until our last date. Was I mistaken?"

The waitress brings their coffee, setting the sugars, cream, napkins and spoons on the table. When the waitress walks away, Fitz starts again.

"Tell me, what did I do?"

"Fitz, I just think we see the world differently."

He sips his coffee, gripping the handle of the mug a little too tightly, and waits for her to continue.

"Fitz, you seem to have your life all organized and packed into little boxes, and I just don't think there is any place left for me."

He looks shocked so she continues.

"I understand your job requires you to compartmentalize – to separate your feelings from the task - I get that. I just don't know how far that extends into your personal life. I don't want to be put into one of your little boxes, Fitz. I need someone who is going to be available – emotionally available to me."

"I see."

"Fitz, I'm not asking you to change, I wouldn't do that. You are who you are, and that's not a criticism. I'm just telling you what _I_ need."

"But why do I think there is more to it than my being overly structured?"

She hesitates because she doesn't like conflict, but she pushes on.

"Fitz, people are important to me. The people in my life - my friends - are important to me."

He nods, encouraging her to continue.

"Ella's death has been quite painful for me." She doesn't want to cry again, not now.

"I know", looking at her sympathetically.

"I don't think you really know. Please, don't think I don't appreciate everything you have done. You've been so kind."

"I wasn't trying to be kind, Olivia. Why do I feel there is a _but_ coming?" He's getting uncomfortable.

Olivia is struggling to find the right words because she doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Fitz, when I asked you at dinner if there was really no hope for Ella, you gave me such a mechanical response. It didn't sound like you were talking about _my_ Ella, the little girl who meant the world to me. You sounded as if you were reading from one of your medical journals. It felt like you had dehumanized Ella. You seemed so cold and uncaring, and that just hurt."

His eyes widen because he's shocked by her charge. While he sometimes forgets to shift his language when he's talking to laymen, he didn't expect her to think he is uncaring. He takes two deep breaths before responding, trying to reconcile his rational mind with his heart. He decides to speak from his heart.

"Olivia, I know how important Ella was, _is_ to you. I know how devastating her death has been for you and my heart has been breaking for you since I saw you fall apart at the hospital. You were so supportive of James and Michael at Ella's funeral and at her grave site even though you were obviously in a lot of pain."

She looks at him with wide eyes, she had no idea he was at the church and the grave site.

"Olivia, if there was any chance that surgery would have saved Ella I would have done it immediately. All of the test results showed the damage was too extensive. It would have been cruel to operate on her knowing it wouldn't change the outcome. I explained that to James and Michael before you came into Ella's room."

"I just needed to know, Fitz", she says brokenly, looking down at her hands as a lone tear streams down her cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply -"

He wants to reach over and wipe the tear away, to take away her pain, but he restrains himself.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Olivia", looking at her with empathy. "Can we agree that you will talk to me about _whatever_ is bothering you instead of shutting me out? I can't guess what's on your mind." He looks at her closely.

"OK", she says softly, nodding her head. "But Fitz, sometimes I just need time to think things through before talking about them."

"I understand, but can you just let me know that's what you're doing?"

She nods.

"And I will get better at how I communicate too - okay?" He's smiling.

"OK", she smiles slightly.

They sit in the back of the coffee shop for hours unaware the bustling lunch crowd has transitioned to a few late afternoon latte lovers straggling in intermittently to get their dose of caffeine. They are lost in their conversation, in each other, as they catch up on lost time.

She updates him on her project in Chicago and remarks she's happy spring is on the way because Chicago winters are so brutal. He smiles as she scrunches her face lamenting about the Chicago winters. He smiles because he's missed listening to her talk. He's missed watching her expressions change based on what she's talking about. He's missed her. He wants to share everything with her.

"Go rafting with me", he says out of the blue.

 _"What?"_ Eyes wide and mouth agape.

"The season starts in a few weeks."

"Fitz, I've never been rafting. I don't know."

"Come on, Liv. It'll be fun. I've been white water rafting for years. My friend David and I go every year in Colorado. It's a great way to tour the area from a different perspective - on the river."

"I'll have to think about it, Fitz. It sounds like it can be dangerous", she says softly.

"It's not. I'll protect you", he smiles knowing she always needs time to process things before making a decision.

"Oh my goodness", she exclaims, looking down at her watch. "We've been here for over two hours, Fitz. I need to get back to the office."

She gets up from her seat, grabbing her purse and sunglasses from the table. He's smiling because he's happy.

"Let me cook dinner for you tonight", he says quickly, halting her movements. A look of surprise spread across her face.

"You can cook?"

"I can."

She squints, not sure if she believes him.

"What time?"

"6:30?"

"Fine. You better not disappoint me Dr. Grant because I am going to have an appetite since I missed lunch."

Fitz doesn't bother returning to the hospital, instead he goes to the grocery store to get the supplies he needs to make dinner. Meanwhile, Cyrus Beene sits in his office thinking about his encounter earlier with Dr. Grant. He knows the younger doctor wasn't being forthcoming with him. He needs to get to the bottom of whatever has Dr. Grant off of his game.

 **XXX**

Fitz knows Olivia is conservative about what she is willing to eat so he decides to make a simple dish of chicken picatta, smashed potatoes, and sautéed spinach with garlic. With all the food prepared and warming in the oven he starts the smooth jazz playlist on his phone and lights a few candles. He walks to his bedroom and checks his appearance in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. He doesn't know why she makes him so nervous.

The doorbell rings.

"Hi", she says, holding up what appears to be wine. "I bought wine. Red and white since I didn't know what _you_ were cooking."

"Hi", he's smiling and looking at her goofily again, happy she's visiting his apartment for the first time.

"May I come in?" She breaks him out of his grinning fest.

"Sure, sure. Come in", he says nervously, stepping aside.

" _Wow, Fitz_. _This is a really nice apartment._ _It's huge_. You can fit _two_ of my apartments in here."

He grabs her hand and leads her into the kitchen.

Let's put the wine on chill. The food is all done."

"Did _you_ really cook, Fitz, or did -?"

"Of course I cooked. I'm a pretty good cook", smiling as he looks into the oven to check the chicken piccata.

"Well, whatever you're cooking it certainly smells good."

He grabs the red wine off the counter along with two glasses and walks them back to the living room. He pours them a glass of the red nectar.

"So, how long have you lived here, Fitz?" She asks, taking a sip of wine.

"Seven years. Found the place right after I was offered the positon at Children's. I know it's big but I got a good deal so I couldn't pass it up."

"I want a tour", she says, looking around the space from her seat on the sofa.

"Later. Let's eat."

"I'm impressed, Fitz, really impressed. That was so good. You're an excellent cook. How did you learn how to cook?"

"Actually I didn't know how to cook when I moved to Phoenix. Since I need to eat healthy I took a couple of cooking classes. We never at fast food when I was growing up.

"And where did you grow up?"

"Wisconsin."

"Ahh, the Dairy State. Does your family still live in Wisconsin?"

"Yup. Mother, father, and one brother."

She nods and takes another sip of wine.

"And what about you, Miss Pope. Where are you from?"

"Philadelphia."

"Ahh, the City of Brotherly Love."

"And Sisterly Affection", she smiles.

"And your family? Any siblings?"

"I was adopted and no siblings that I know of", she looks at him trying to gauge his reaction to her background.

"I see. Are you ready for that tour?"

"Yes!" She says excitedly, bouncing up from the sofa.

After the tour and a little dessert, Fitz walks Olivia to her car.

"I had a lovely time, Fitz."

"Then you'll have to come back", giving her that silly smirk.

She smiles, nods her head, and turns to get into her car.

"Oh, by the way", giving him a slight smile. "I'll go rafting with you."

 **XXX**

They've begun to spend more time together getting to know each other. Today they're at Fitz' apartment where he sits on the sofa reading the following advertisement in _Rapid_ , his white water rafting magazine:

 _The Arizona rafting season is predicted to be the biggest whitewater season in 2 decades – thanks El Nino! It is never too early to reserve your seat for the season! Opening day for raft trips: Friday, March 4th. Custom trips may be available earlier depending on water flow._

Arizona river rafting is known and loved for being the first rafting opportunities each spring in the US thanks to the early snow melt in the Arizona Mountains. Arizona raft adventures offer a truly unique experience with the gorgeous high desert scenery, the wildlife, and the chance to really get away from it all. It's great for those itching to get on the river, and Fitz is itching to get back on the river. He is a white water rafting enthusiast. Quite frankly he likes almost all outdoor activities. Olivia on the other hand is a homebody and a landlubber, but he continues to push her comfort level when it comes to participating in his outdoor hobbies.

"Liv, come look at this. I've found a rafting tour designed for beginners. I think you'll really enjoy it."

She groans because she is trying to get some work done and now she regrets agreeing to go rafting with him. She swims in heated, Olympic-size pools, not rivers.

"Come read the description, it's a Class 1 tour. It'll be real easy. The season is starting in a few weeks and we need to make a reservation and get you the proper gear."

She rolls her eyes.

 **XXX**

Olivia stands wearing the gear Fitz bought her and she feels silly wearing the stupid helmet. She looks at the people all around her who seem to be of varying skill levels, ranging from beginners like herself to experienced rafters like Fitz. They are all anxious and talking excitedly as they climb into their rafts.

"Fitz, this looks scary. I don't think I'm ready for this. I don't think I can do it." She's looking nervously at the calm river.

"You don't have anything to worry about, Liv. I'll be right here with you the entire time. Once we get started and you look up at the beautiful mountains you love so much, you'll be so relaxed."

"Are you sure, Fitz? I'm scared."

"You have nothing to fear, Liv. I told you, I'll always protect you. I won't ever let anything happen to you", he kisses her forehead.

"So what are we going to do here?" One of the guides asks. "We're getting ready to push off. Are you going with us or not?" The guide looks between Fitz and Olivia.

Fitz gives Olivia a pleading look and she looks at him for a moment then climbs into the raft on shaky legs. As they sail along the calm waters listening to the guide point out the interesting sites, she begins to relax.

"This is absolutely beautiful, Fitz. I'm so glad I came."

"I told you", smiling from ear to ear.

Suddenly the flow of the river shifts and the raft jettisons across the river. Olivia didn't expect the sudden shift and she falls forward, ending up at the bottom of the raft with her legs in the air. The other passengers are cheering the sudden shift while she calls for Fitz. He uprights her quickly as the raft bounces up and down on the rough waters. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves Olivia joins in the cheering. Her adrenaline is pumping and she's having the best time of her life.

"That was amazing!" She says when they get back to land. "We have to do it again!"

 **XXX**

It's been three months and Fitz and Olivia have been dating casually, getting together for dinner, the theater, sporting events, or just hanging out at one of their apartments. While they seem to enjoy each other's company and share similar values, they have not discussed where the "relationship" is going, or if they are even in a relationship. Hell, he doesn't know if she's dating other men and she hasn't asked him if he's seeing other women, which he isn't. He wants them to be exclusive but he doesn't want to rush her. He's known what he wanted since she jumped into his arms on the plane.

Fitz misses Olivia when she goes out of town for days at a time on business. This week she's in Chicago again, coordinating the final phase of the extension to the elite private day school in downtown Chicago. There are so many things to oversee so she meets daily with Ted, the project manager, to ensure they're on track to complete the project as contracted. A missed deadline would mean significant financial penalties for Stearns, the architectural firm for whom she works. Right now she's at the construction site reviewing the blueprints with the project manager and builder. The builder is concerned about some of the design decisions the architects have made.

"John, we can redesign the duct work in the west wing and still keep the project on schedule."

"Are you sure, Olivia? We're gonna have to rip out what we've already done. That's gonna set us back by at least a day, maybe two."

"If we don't that part of the school will always be hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and nobody is going to like that."

She smiles internally when she hears the familiar ringtone. Fitz prefers calling rather than texting.

"Give me a minute, guys. I need to take this call."

She walks to the other side of the room and presses the green button on her phone screen to answer the call.

"Hi", she says, smiling brightly, while looking out the window. It's such a sunny April day.

"Hi", he says, smiling just as wide. "Are you busy?"

"I'm in a meeting."

"OK. I'll make this quick then. The hospital's annual gala is …"

 _Silence._

"Fitz, are you still there?"

"Yes. As I was saying, the hospital's annual gala is next month – I don't usually go to these things. I forgot I had the invitation actually. I need to RSVP by the end of the day", he says quickly.

She loves when he gets nervous so she's not going to help him out. She's going to let him dangle a while longer.

"I see", smiling broadly.

"Well, I was wondering …" He's pacing around his office and rubbing his forehead.

"You were wondering?" She's having fun letting him sweat.

"I was wondering if you would like to go with me - be my date."

"Yes."

"Yes? You mean you'll go?" He stops pacing and looks out the window. It's a sunny day in Phoenix.

"Yes, I'll go. I'll go to the gala with you. I'll be your date", smiling brightly.

"OK. I'll RSVP then", he nods and smiles.

"I have to go", she says, grinning because she knows the look he now has on his face.

"Sure, sure. I will call you later?"

"OK."

Olivia smiles, disconnects the call, and walks back to the meeting to finalize the design changes with the builder.

 **One Month Later**

Fitz drives up to the private club where the hospital holds its annual gala. He gives the valet his keys and walks around the car to open the door for Olivia. He places his hand at the small of her back and ushers her into the building. The valet sneaks a peek at the couple before he pulls off to park Fitz' car.

"Fitz, this is an absolutely beautiful venue. Why have you never gone to any of the galas in the past?"

"Wasn't interested", he says, steering her into the banquet room.

The room is packed and the band is playing a lively tune as the waiters glide through the crowded room serving a variety of hor 'dourves to the chattering guests.

"We're at Table 4. We'll be sitting with a few people from my practice."

Olivia nods her head and smiles. There are two open seats left at the table that seats eight. Everyone at the table have obviously been drinking a lot and now they are talking loudly when Max spots Fitz walking across the room.

"Fitzgerald, I'm surprised to see you at this stuffy event. You never come to any of the hospital events", he says, stealing a look at Olivia out the corner of his eye.

"Good to see you too, Max", shaking his colleague's hand.

Everyone at the table stops talking and looks up at Fitz and his date.

"Everyone, this is Olivia – my date", he says proudly.

Olivia smiles and nods to everyone at the table as Max grabs her hand and kisses it. Fitz bristles.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Olivia. So you're the inspiration behind Dr. Grant's rare appearance?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that", smiling demurely.

 **XXX**

Fitz walks over to the bar to get their drinks while Olivia talks to the very pregnant wife of one of Fitz' associates.

"A cabernet and scotch on the rocks", giving his drink order to the bartender.

"Well, well, well, Dr. Grant", Max says slapping Fitz on the back. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

Leaning against the bar waiting for his drinks Fitz turns to Max.

"Dr. Heller."

"Keeping secrets from your old friend? She's a beauty, Fitzgerald. How long has this been going on?"

"It's a long story, Max."

"Well, you have everyone in the room buzzing."

"Excuse me?" Fitz says, looking at Max curiously, not sure what he's referring to.

"Come on, Fitz, don't be naive. You haven't been to one of these galas in years and tonight you show up with your black goddess."

 _"Fuck you, Max"_ , Fitz says, grabbing his drinks from the bar and beginning to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa", Max says, placing his hand on his friend's arm to stop him from walking off in a huff.

 _"Get your fucking hands off of me Max"_ , Fitz snaps.

The bartender glances over at the two men.

"OK, OK", holding his hands up in surrender. "I know you can kick my ass because you do that kickboxing shit. But as your friend I thought you should know what people are saying. You know they're a bunch of old stuffed shirts. I don't give a shit who you date, but you are definitely a brave man."

"My dating Olivia has nothing to do with bravery, Max."

Max nods his head, thinking this might be a serious relationship for his friend.

"Well, you should also know that a certain _someone_ , well, she's been watching you and your date all night."

 **XXX**

While Fitz is getting their drinks Olivia excuses herself from her talkative table mate and goes searching for the ladies' room. She is unaware Cyrus Beene is watching her, has been watching her ever since she and Fitz arrived. Cyrus sips his drink wondering if this is the woman who has changed Dr. Grant. He makes a mental note to find out everything he can about the woman.

Olivia strolls down the long hall outside of the ladies' room that leads to the gallery of art. Out of habit she admires the design of the building and its décor. As she approaches the end of the hall a tall, handsome man stops to greet her.

"Good evening, beautiful lady. I am Dr. Hannibal Ramsey", he says in a deep, elegant voice as he extends his hand.

"Hello, Dr. Ramsey – Olivia Pope", giving him a cordial smile while shaking his hand.

"So, why is my beautiful sister roaming these drab halls all alone?"

She smiles politely again.

"The artwork caught my eye", looking around at the Impressionist works hanging on the walls.

"It seems like _you_ have apparently caught someone's eye as well."

"Excuse me?" Olivia looks perplexed as the man steps closer, his white teeth contrasting with cocoa-colored skin.

"Tell me", moving in closer. "Why is such a beautiful Nubian queen like yourself cavorting with the likes of your former slave master?"

" _What?"_

"Is he curious about what it's like to _be_ with a black woman?"

" _I beg your pardon"_ , she's getting flustered.

"I'm only saying what everyone in that room is thinking."

"Excuse me, Dr. Ramsey. I must be getting back to my _date_."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?"

"You don't know anything about me", she says angrily.

" _I know you're a black woman who is allowing that white man to parade you around here like you're his whore!"_

Olivia gasps and gives the man a death glare before making her way back to the banquet room. She doesn't know what to think about her run in with the rude doctor, but she knows she needs a drink. She wonders where Fitz is, looking around the room at the faces and thinking about what Dr. Ramsey said.

 **XXX**

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Fitz asks, standing outside of Olivia's apartment door.

"I did", smiling weakly.

"Olivia, is something wrong? You've been quiet since we left the gala." He's looking at her with concern.

"Nothing's wrong. Do you know a Dr. Ramsey – Hannibal Ramsey?"

"No, can't say that I do. He's not in our practice. Why do you ask?"

"I just had an odd encounter with him when I was leaving the ladies' room."

"Did he -?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I had a good time tonight", she smiles weakly again. "Your friend Max is a real character", trying to change the subject.

"That he is", Fitz says with a tight smile. Max is always competing with him for the attention of the ladies.

"Would you like to come in for a drink – coffee?"

"Rain check? I have an early morning operation."

They are both nervous. Do they kiss, shake hands, or bow?

"OK", she nods.

"Well, I guess I better get going."

"Good night", she says softly as he walks away.

Then he turns around quickly and gives her a searing kiss that takes her breath away.

"Now, good night, Miss Pope", he says smiling.

The old woman across the hall smiles and closes her peephole.

 **XXX**

Olivia enters her apartment and leans against the door smiling as she brings her hand to her lips. She's really beginning to like Fitz, a lot. But her joy is dashed quickly when she hears Dr. Ramsey's voice in her head, causing her to question if she should really entertain having a relationship with Fitz. Can she do this? Can she be in an interracial relationship? Is Fitz just exercising his curiosity? Olivia is torn and doesn't know what to do.

The next morning Olivia awakens with the same thoughts she fell asleep with the night before. She wonders who she can talk to about her concerns. Although Abby is her friend she's not sure if Abby would understand her dilemma. And she can't talk to her best friend James because he is still grieving Ella and she doesn't know how he would react to her dating Fitz. Her phone vibrates, alerting her to a new text message. She smiles when she sees it's from Fitz.

 **Fitz:** Good morning. U know I hate texting. Didn't want 2 wake U. Enjoyed last nite.

She smiles.

 **Olivia:** Me 2

 **Fitz:** Will call U later

 **Olivia:** OK

Olivia needs to get out of her apartment and get some fresh air. She needs to clear her head so she decides to go for a run.

"Hello, Olivia. I saw you and your young man going out last night all dressed up and."

Olivia rolls her eyes and continues walking toward the elevator, not in the mood for Mrs. Teller today.

"He's a good one, Olivia. You better hold on to him."

Olivia turns and looks at the old woman for a moment, who is giving her a knowing look.

"Mrs. Teller, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Of course, Olivia. Come in and have a seat."

Olivia walks into Mrs. Teller's apartment for the first time, glancing around the traditionally decorated space. Everything is in order but it all looks so impersonal.

"Tea, Olivia?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Mrs. Teller goes into the kitchen and returns quickly with the tea service. Olivia thinks that was fast.

"So, Olivia, what can I do for you?" Sitting on the sofa and crossing her legs.

For the next few minutes Olivia tells Mrs. Teller about the gala. She tells her about Dr. Ramsey. She tells her how she is now questioning if she should be in a relationship with Fitz.

"Do you love him?" The old woman asks, eyeing Olivia closely.

"Well, I really like him."

"Baby, when you find someone in this lifetime that you really like, no matter their color, you better grab onto them."

Olivia looks at the woman and nods her head, digesting what she just said.

"He's a good man, Olivia. If he were only interested in satisfying his _curiosity_ , as that Dr. Ramsey said, well he could've gone anywhere for that. Men don't date a booty call, Olivia. And they certainly don't take them to galas."

Olivia looks at Mrs. Teller in shock, wondering what the heck she knows about a booty call.

"That man likes _you_ for _you_ , Olivia. He came to check on you after that precious little girl died. He reached out to _you_ after _you_ stopped taking his calls because you didn't like the words he used when he explained Ella's condition."

Olivia's eyes widen, wondering how Mrs. Teller knows these things.

"And, as for that Dr. Ramsey, I bet he wouldn't have the nerve to speak to a black man the way he spoke to you. You should have given him a big piece of your mind, Olivia. Don't you let anyone, and I mean anyone, ever talk to you like that again. The next time you see that _so-called_ doctor you tell him to go kick bricks."

Olivia giggles.

"Olivia, you need to talk to your young man about your fears. If you can't handle being in a relationship with him then he needs to know - sooner rather than later."

Olivia looks at the old woman and nods her head slowly, thinking Mrs. Teller is really wise.

"Thank you, Mrs. Teller. You've given me a lot to think about. And, thanks for the tea, too."

 **XXX**

Three weeks after the gala Olivia and Fitz decide to have a picnic lunch in the park because it's a beautiful, sunny Saturday and they both have the day off from work. After walking around the trails for a while and looking at the rowers, bikers, and joggers, Fitz' stomach begins to growl.

"Sounds like somebody's hungry", she looks up at him and smiles.

"I am."

They walk back to his car to get picnic basket and blankets out of the trunk. Then they search for a semi-private spot on the grass.

"I think this is a good spot", Olivia says. "What do you think?"

"Perfect", he looks at her and smiles.

After eating their lunch they lay on the blanket, in silence, enjoying the sun caress their faces. He's anxious because he wants to ask her but he's not sure how's she going to respond. He's tired of introducing her as his date or his friend. He wants everyone to know that they are a couple, that she is his, so he decides to just do it before he loses his courage again.

"Be my girlfriend", he says quickly, smiling nervously.

" _What?"_ Sitting up on the blanket and removing her sunglasses to look at him closely.

"Be my girlfriend", he repeats, looking into her eyes and holding his breath.

"Are we in high school where you ask me to go steady and wear your pin?"

"Yes", he says, still trying to quell his nerves.

"OK", she says flatly.

"OK then", he's smiling. "Now kiss me."

"Not so fast cowboy", putting up her hand to stop him from moving in for a kiss.

He looks at her curiously.

"Where's my pin?"

Fitz has gotten to know Olivia fairly well over the last few months. She is quick-witted and loves to tease him so he has to be on his toes when they're together. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his medical pin and attaches it to her blouse. He smiles proudly.

"Now kiss me", she says, giving him the smile he loves so much.


	4. Chapter 4 The First Time

**A/N: Continued thanks to all of you for journeying with this Olivia and Fitz. I enjoy reading the reviews, they're really entertaining. I see Dr. Ramsey was not a favorite for some of you. :-) Also, please know I will finish this story and will get back to the present, back to Wisconsin, in a few more chapters. Also, my goal is to update once a week on Sundays, if life doesn't interfere. Now back to our regularly scheduled story. Enjoy, and tell me what you think.**

 **Chapter 4. The First Time**

They are both nervous not because they are new to this but because it's new for them together. They know how to kiss but they don't know how to kiss each other. They know how to caress but they don't know how to caress each other. They know how to have sex but they don't know how to make love to each other. Tonight they will learn how to kiss, caress, and make love together in the most intimate of ways. The anticipation is high and the air is electric. Will they meet each other's expectations? Will they like each other afterwards?

His mouth is slightly agape as they stand before each other with eyes expressing desire. She stands on her toes and traces his lips with her tongue and his eyes flutter close. She encircles his waist and slides the other hand up his strong back, pulling him closer. She brushes her lips softly across his and he exhales and his warm breath flows across her face. He envelops her, eliminating the distance, and kisses her slowly at first, then deeply, and she moans. The connection is made and the journey begins.

He unbuttons his shirt cuffs then kisses her again because he loves kissing her. She accepts his tongue. He unbuttons her blouse and the panels of the garment fall open, revealing her white lace bra. He smiles, admiring the contrast. He looks at her with desire but waits for permission; it's her choice. She smiles nervously and nods ever so slightly, her silent cue. He smiles too and kisses down her chest. He deftly unhooks her bra and slides down the straps, allowing it float to the floor. His eyes darken at the sight of her unveiled breasts and he licks his lips, a reflexive response.

Hands shaking ever so slightly she unbuttons his shirt and slides it around his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the floor. She stands on her toes and kisses him again, exploring his mouth as she pulls his undershirt over his head. She marvels at the hardness of his body. He's a man. They both smile with desire, but there is no urgency.

She steps out of her pants and chuckles to herself when she hears the clinking of his belt buckle. Quickly discarding his pants and socks they stand before each other with only small patches of material shielding them. His boxers tent and her panties grow more moist as he kisses her, slowly guiding her to the bed. He removes her panties and she spread her legs and his dick twitches from the vision that lay before him.

"Livvie", he says huskily.

She squirms when his hand strokes her pocket.

"Oh, Fitz", she moans and licks her lips. Another silent cue.

His mouth quickly replaces his hand and his dick strains against his boxers. He slurps the liquid pooling around the soft flesh of her inner lips and she quivers.

"I've wanted you forever", he says huskily.

His fingers open her outer lips, revealing her swollen bud and he dives in, licking and sucking voraciously. Her hands fly to his head, pulling him closer, riding his mouth with abandon. He skillfully discards his boxers, without disconnecting from her, and his dick springs free, brushing the bottom of the bed.

"Yes, yes, oh yes", gliding her sensitive nub up and down his mouth.

His mouth is wonderful and she feels untethered, like she's floating away. Her toes grab the sheet, trying to hold on. He inserts a finger and pumps as he suckles her nub.

 _"Fitz"_ , she screams.

He covers her little sister with wet kisses and her legs tremble. He slides up her body and kisses her deeply.

"Protection", he says with ragged breath.

"Get it. Hurry, Fitz." She's wants him.

He crawls across the floor feeling for his pants that hold his wallet that holds the thin rubber sheath encased in gold foil.

"Fitz, hurry!"

 _"Shit!"_

Olivia laughs when she hears the expletive.

"Are you okay over there?" Sitting up in the bed.

"It's too dark in here. I can't see a _damn_ thing."

Olivia rolls across the bed and turns on the lamp sitting on the nightstand.

"Do you need some help with that?" She clamps her hand over her mouth trying to stifle her laughter.

He's red-faced as he rips open the gold-foiled packet and rolls the thin rubber onto his erection, down to the shaft.

"You're going to pay for laughing at me", he says with dark eyes, walking over to the bed at full attention.

She reaches to turn off the light.

"Leave it on. I want to see all of you."

She nods as he crawls onto the bed. He wants to explore her, all of her, so he slowly kisses and licks and sucks from head to toe. He makes his way down her back and around to her navel, leaving trails of saliva all over her body. He licks a breast, capturing the brown nipple with his mouth, and he suckles like a newborn baby.

"Mmm", she moans, riding his hand, coating it with her juices. She's ready.

"Open your eyes", he demands as he aligns with her opening.

She opens her eyes and gasps as he eases into her soaking channel. They both still, taking time to acquaint themselves with each other. He cups her face, looks into her glazed over eyes, and settles inside her heat. She feels exquisite.

"Keep. Your. Eyes. Open", he says firmly.

His tongue is in her mouth and he goes to work, riding her, slowly exploring her channel. Her legs wrap around his waist and they ride in sync. He's lost in the sensation and thrusts hard. He lengthens and she picks up the pace, riding up and down his ribbed hardness. He stills his movements and watches as she slides up and down his thickness. He loves how her face contorts as she seeks her pleasure.

"You feel so good", she moans, closing her eyes. "So good."

He nods and thrusts harder, over and over, until he discovers her spot, and she screams.

Her trembling walls feel wonderful as he continues the steady pace; reveling in her, feeling her, and learning about her. The grip of her walls spurs him to thrust harder, the friction beckons him to release. He's euphoric and he wants to savor her forever.

"Keep. Your. Eyes. Open", she whispers.

His strokes are more deliberate, long and deep. With each stroke his heart sings, he can stay like this, connected to her forever. She's learned when he is getting close so she wraps her arms tightly around his back and kisses him hard. He returns the kiss as his body surrenders to the sensation.

"God, God, God." He calls out in pleasure.

The air is thick with the remnants of their union and their breathing is heavy. She runs her fingers through his damp hair as they lay in silence trying to regain their senses. His chest heaves on her breasts and his breathing is erratic. The silence is broken when her laughter suddenly fills the room.

"What's so funny?" He asks lazily, completely fulfilled.

"I didn't know you were a religious man", smiling and rubbing her hands up and down his back.

"Actually, my family _are_ devout Christians", mumbling into her chest.

"Wow", laughing softly. "Then I won't tell them what we just did."

 **The Next Morning**

He lay atop her and kisses, and licks, and sucks every exposed part of her his mouth can reach. He's bursting with joy and he can't seem to get enough of her. She giggles and rubs her foot up and down the back of his long legs.

"Spend the day with me", he breathes out while tracing the inside of her ear with his tongue.

 _"What?"_

Her hands stop rubbing his back and she looks at him with a stunned expression, as if he has lost his mind. He sucks her ear lobe and kisses down her neck and smiles. He loves how she says _what_ when she is surprised.

"We have work, Fitz", moving to make her way to the bathroom.

"Let's skip work today", pulling her back onto the bed, kissing down her neck and licking her shoulder.

 _"Skip work? I've never skipped work. Besides, I have to do something with this."_ Pointing an index finger at her wild mane.

"Me either", kissing down her throat. "I love your hair", kissing down her arm. "We owe it to ourselves not to be responsible for once - to do something fun."

The idea of skipping work with him is beginning to appeal to her. Besides, he looks so excited, like a kid who is plotting skipping school for the day with his best friend. She squints at him for a moment, taking in his beautiful face, then reaches for her phone. And he reaches for his phone too. After they call out from their jobs they spend the morning continuing to discover each other.

He rolls on top of her, looks into her eyes, and kisses her ever so gently. She returns the kiss in kind, roaming her fingernails through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. He laughs because it tickles and he kisses her fervently because he can't get enough of her. His member is hardening and he needs to be inside of her again. He reaches over to the nightstand, sliding another gold foil packet across the smooth surface.

"Let me", she whispers.

He nods and straddles her as she strokes him firmly. He closes his eyes, now fully erect. She rolls the rubber down to his shaft and he inhales deeply.

"Kiss me", he breathes raggedly.

The kiss is open-mouthed and her tongue glides easily into his mouth as he positions himself inside of her. More familiar with her body he begins to grind and she wraps her legs around his long legs and they grind together.

"You feel wonderful, Livvie. You make me feel so good."

She spread her legs slowly, another silent cue, and he rides her nub with his hard rod. He's learning more about what she likes.

"Yes, Fitz. Just like that. Just. Like. That."

He thrusts hard into her wet channel as the familiar feeling builds slowly in his groin. He feels so damn good. He hasn't felt like this in forever. He continues to thrust, going deeper than she expected, and she gasps. His body is rigid and he squeezes her tightly, closing his eyes. The release is magnificent and he calls to the heavens.

With legs open, she reclines on the pillows propped against the headboard and he lays atop her, with his head resting on her stomach. One long arm hangs over the side of the bed while the other absently caresses a breast. He feels good. After a while, she pats his butt twice, he's too heavy. He rolls onto his back and pulls her on top of him. The room fills with the sounds of their kissing, their new favorite pass time. She grinds on his stomach and he massages her ass, arousal building again. Then their stomachs growl and they laugh out loud.

"We need food", patting her bottom.

"Well you won't find any here." She's straddling him, holding his face between her hands, pecking and nibbling his lips. She can't get enough of him, food be damned.

"Liv ..."

"What? You're the cook", kissing his chin and down his neck.

"We gotta get up", patting her on the butt again. "Go out and get breakfast."

" _You_ gotta get up – go out and get breakfast. After that last round I can't walk, won't be able to walk for days."

He rolls his eyes, slides her onto the bed, and walks to the bathroom.

"We're going grocery shopping later", he says over his shoulder. "We have to have food around here."

She giggles.

 **XXX**

Cyrus Beene walks past Lauren's desk to give his usual two knocks on the door before entering Dr. Grant's office.

"He's not in, Chief Beene."

Cyrus' hand remains on the door knob as he looks over his shoulder at Lauren with a stunned expression.

"Not in?"

"Dr. Grant called earlier this morning to say that he wouldn't be in today - that he's taking a personal day."

" _A personal day?_ Did he say why, Lauren? Is something wrong?" Dr. Grant doesn't take _personal days_.

"He didn't say, sir. But, I don't think there's a problem", Lauren smiles slightly.

Cyrus looks at Lauren, encouraging her to say more.

"Well, he just sounded happy, sir."

Cyrus' eyes bulge. Happy? He wonders what the hell is going on. Cyrus stomps back to his office, slams the door, and grabs the phone sitting on his desk.

 **XXX**

Dr. Grant's colleagues and the staff in the Pediatric Neurological Unit all know he is indeed a happy man. He's no longer Dr. Freeze, the secret nickname the staff gave him because of his distant and detached demeanor. While he is a somewhat pleasant man, he is reserved and doesn't relate well to people. But recently he's been more playful and open. He's smiling a lot too, an awful lot. He's even _tried_ to tell a few jokes. He's only burning the midnight oil when absolutely necessary. And he's taking vacation days and actually going away for long weekends. The rumors are he's spending a lot of those weekends in Chicago. The rumor mill has concluded that Dr. Grant has been bitten, that someone has stolen his heart.

Cyrus knows the physical and mental demands on surgeons who perform long and complex operations, that's why he hovers. The morbidity and crippling rates are already too high in neurosurgery, so he stays on top of his surgeons' emotional and physical well-being. He needs his doctors to be in tip-top shape mentally and physically when they enter the operating room. He can't afford for them to make mistakes. A mistake would have devastating effects on the patient, their families, the hospital, and most importantly him. Cyrus has a reputation to uphold and he won't let anything or anyone sully it. After all, that's all he has left.

For Cyrus Beene, this 2.0 version of Dr. Grant is a threat to the department. His happiness means there is an outside force involved, a force over which he has no control, and Cyrus Beene always needs to be in control. Whoever has the good doctor flying high can also bring him down to the depths of hell. Anyone, any woman, who has that kind of power is a threat to Cyrus' well-crafted system.

 **XXX**

Before Fitz met Olivia he was unaware how hungry he was, not for nourishment per se, but hungry for an emotional connection with a woman. While he has had his share of relationships, they were all short-lived and meaningless. When the woman seemed to be getting too attached and wanted more, he would find a reason to end it. He doesn't remember why he was exiled to this desert where emotional attachments, romantic or otherwise, were not important and where work became his life, but he knows he no longer wants that life. So he has returned to the land of the living where he feels alive, where he is in love. And he wants her to be with him all of the time, but he doesn't want to scare her away, creep her out with his yearning.

Olivia is spending more and more time at Fitz' apartment, at his insistence of course.

Tonight they sit cross-legged in the middle of his bed eating Chinese food. She's wearing a white camisole and panties and he's wearing pale blue boxers and is bare chested. She dips the chopsticks into the white container and picks up his least favorite vegetable.

"Open", she says, holding the broccoli between the sticks.

"I hate broccoli", he pouts.

"You'll _love_ this broccoli."

He opens his mouth and she slides the green cruciferous floret into his mouth.

"Now chew. You have to start eating more green vegetables, Fitz. Maybe I'll make you a green smoothie for breakfast."

He frowns.

"Why? I eat healthy." He scrunches his face as he chews the somewhat bitter floret.

"See, that wasn't too bad", feeding him a piece of chicken to tamp down the broccoli after taste.

"I still hate broccoli", chewing the spicy chicken.

 _"Tomorrow - kale"_ , she says triumphantly.

 _"Tonight - you"_ , he says, grabbing the container from her hand and setting it onto the nightstand.

 _"Nooo"_ , she squeals, as she sprints from the bed.

"You're going to get it", he says, crawling across the bed and dragging the sheet that's caught around his foot.

 _"Nooo, Fitz",_ trying to run into the bathroom but he's too fast. He catches her around the waist with one arm and she laughs hysterically.

She kicks her legs when he scoops her up and carries her back to the bed, dropping her onto the firm mattress. He tickles her sides and she can hardly catch her breath from laughing so hard.

"I won't eat broccoli again and I'm not going to eat kale", tickling her unrelentingly. "Now say it." 

"I won't eat broccoli again and I'm not going to eat kale", laughing hysterically.

"Say it", tickling her again.

"No", she says through the laughter.

He continues to tickle her as she tries to escape him.

 _"Say it."_

"Okay, okay. You don't have to eat broccoli again", tears running down her face from laughing so hard.

"And ..." Getting ready to tickle her again.

"You don't have to eat kale tomorrow."

He tickles her again.

 _"Or ever. You don't have to ever eat kale."_

"That's my, Livvie", he says, straddling her and stretching their arms above her head.

He kisses down to her stomach and slides off her panties to access his favorite dish. He inhales, taking in the scent that is unmistakably her. He spread her outer folds and flattens his tongue. He gives her a long lick and her thighs clamp tightly around his head. He laughs and continues to dine. She lifts her bottom from the bed and rides his mouth.

" _This_ is my favorite vegetable", he says as he ravishes her.

 **XXX**

Now that they are officially a couple, Olivia wants her friends to meet Fitz so she decides to host a dinner party where they can all finally meet. She hopes they will like him because she really does. This is the perfect occasion to have a dinner party because it's been ages since the gang has gotten together.

Olivia has invited her best girlfriend Abby, an attorney, who she met shortly after moving to Phoenix. Stephen is coming, they've worked together at the same firm for the past four years. And Carla, who she works out with at the gym, is bringing her police officer husband, Tom. James and Michael are still mourning Ella, of course, and are not in the mood for a party just yet. She understands completely.

Olivia is preparing the apartment for their guests while waiting for Fitz to arrive with the few items she texted him to pick up from the store. Fitz left work early to go to the grocery store to get the items on Olivia's list, now he has made his way back to her apartment, standing in the hall. Arms filled with bags he digs into his pants pocket to fish out his key ring and smiles when he sees the key to Olivia's apartment. She gave him the key a few weeks ago and this is the first time he has had an opportunity to use it. He slides the key into the lock and pushes open the door with his foot. Olivia is setting the dining room table for six when she hears the door swing open. She laughs when she sees him struggling to get the key out of the lock while juggling all the bags. She wonders what he bought. He looks up when he hears her laughing.

"A little help over here would be nice", finally getting the key out of the lock.

Still laughing she walks over and relieves him of some of the bags. He finally gets the door closed and the old woman across the hall closes her peephole, shaking her head and laughing, thinking _these two need all the help they can get_.

"Hon, what did you buy? My list didn't have this much on it", looking around at all of the plastic and paper bags spread across the floor.

"Olivia ..." he says panting.

 _Oh-oh_ she says to herself. He must be upset because he just used the _O_ word. She's trying not to laugh.

"Olivia, you weren't specific about anything on your list. You said red wine. Did you want merlot, pinot noir, a cab? So I got two of each. I also got beer. You said cheese, but you didn't say what kind so I got a gruyere, a stilton, and a smoked Gouda. You said get snacks so I got chips, dips, nuts, chocolate, and something else I think", looking around at all of the bags spread across the floor.

She can no longer suppress her laughter. The harder she laughs the more irritated he gets.

"Babe, why didn't you just text me if you weren't sure what to get?"

"You know I hate texting", grabbing the bags from the floor and taking them to the kitchen.

"Well, we have a couple of hours before our guests arrive so why don't you go shower and change while I put all of this stuff away and finish setting up?"

"Kiss me", he says, still frowning.

Olivia wraps her arms around his neck and grazes her fingernails through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls her close and gives her a slow and leisurely kiss. His tongue makes its way into her mouth and she moans. He squeezes her butt and walks her back against the refrigerator and starts to unzip her pants.

"Fitz, Fitz", she says breathlessly. "We don't have time. We have to finish getting things ready."

He looks at her in disbelief.

"Do you feel _this_?" Placing her hand on his crotch. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Now would be a good time to take that shower", she says grinning, scooting away from him to unpack all of the bags. "And don't give me that face. It won't work right now."

"You owe me later - _big time_ ", he says over his shoulder as he walks toward the bedroom.

"I put your things away in your drawers", she yells after him, shaking her head.

 **XXX**

"Liv, he's a real cutie", Abby says. "Does he have a brother?"

"He does, actually. He's a couple of years younger but they could pass for twins. It's uncanny."

 _"Yum-my",_ Abby says, salivating. "You have to set us up."

"He lives in Wisconsin, Abbs."

 _"Wisconsin, do people really live in Wisconsin?"_

"Watch it, Abigail, that's where my man is from", eyeing Fitz as he chats it up with Stephen.

"So, have you fallen for this Wisconsin milkman, Ms. Pope?" Abby eyes Olivia closely as she sips her wine.

Olivia smiles and unconsciously licks her lips, continuing to admire Fitz' firm body across the room.

"I think I have, Abbs. I think I have."

 **XXX**

"So Fitz, Liv says you're some kind of _baby_ doctor", Stephen says with a smirk.

"I am." Fitz examines the man closely, unsure of his tone. "Pediatric neurosurgeon, actually."

"I see", Stephen says, taking another sip of wine. "This wine is _really_ good. I see Liv broke out the good stuff tonight. We've shared many glasses of _vino_ in this apartment", Stephen says smugly, glancing around the room.

Fitz smiles tightly.

"So, neurosurgery is pretty heady stuff, what do you do for fun?"

"I enjoy whitewater rafting, Taekwondo -"

"Ahhh, a _kick boxer_ ", Stephen says sarcastically.

"Not quite", thinking he would like to kick Stephen's smug ass right now.

"Well Fitz, Liv and I have been _close_ for years", he smiles, giving Fitz a knowing look.

"Is that so?" He's growing more annoyed with the man.

"Yes. She is a _dear, dear friend_ and I only want the best for her. Are you the _best_ , Fitz?"

"Liv will be the judge of that. Excuse me Stephen, I need to refill the ice bucket."

Fitz is livid and he wants to break something, like Stephen's face.

 **XXX**

Carla and Tom walk over to Stephen when they see Fitz walk away.

"You're not starting trouble tonight are you, Stephen?" Tom asks, holding a bottle of beer in his hand.

 _"Who me?"_ He asks with faux offense.

"We saw you over here grilling Fitz. What did you say to him?" Carla asks.

"I told him the vino is _very_ good tonight." holding up his glass and laughing too loud.

Olivia notices Fitz glaring at Stephen from the kitchen so she goes to him and wraps her arms around his waist. Standing on her toes she kisses the back of his neck. The wine has her feeling amorous.

"I'll be ready to pay after our guests are gone", she whispers, rubbing his stomach.

"Not now, Olivia", he says tersely, pulling away and walking to the freezer to get more ice.

There goes the _O_ word again she thinks. Olivia follows Fitz to the refrigerator and rubs her hand up and down his back.

"Babe, is everything all right? Are you okay?" She asks softly, looking up at his tense profile.

 **XXX**

"Stop being an asshole, Stephen. Liv really likes him. You know she's never introduced any of her boyfriends to us before", Carla says.

"Maybe that's the problem", says Tom, hitting a nerve.

 _"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Tom?"_

 _"Whatever you want it to mean, Stephen"_ , stepping closer to the annoying man.

"There's no need to get all _Hulk_ on me, _Tom_. I just let Fitz know Liv is a _dear_ friend and I care about her welfare."

 **XXX**

Abby stands in the middle of the living room sipping her wine and watching the scene between Olivia and Fitz unfold in the kitchen. Then she looks across the room at Stephen, Tom, and Carla, who are standing by the window in the living room. She has an idea of what's going on so she decides to lighten the mood. She walks over to Olivia's entertainment system and changes the music from the smooth jazz dripping through the speakers to an upbeat R&B playlist. She starts to dance when Bruno Mars' _Uptown Funk_ blasts through the speakers.

 _"Is this a party or what?"_ Abby yells.

Everyone turns and looks at her as she walks over to Stephen and pulls him onto her dance floor.

"Come on everybody, grab your partner and dance", Abby yells.

Carla pulls a somewhat reluctant Tom onto the dance floor and Liv looks at Fitz.

"Dance with me", she looks at him pleadingly.

He looks at the couples gyrating in the living room and shakes his head.

"Come on, babe. It'll be fun", gently pulling him by the hand.

"I can't", he says shyly, looking down at the floor.

She looks at him and smiles. He looks so adorable when he's embarrassed.

"Then we'll dance slow, right here, in this kitchen - just the two of us. Okay?"

She places his hands on her hips and they sway slowly in the kitchen while their guests party in the living room. He kisses her and thinks he might have to take Mrs. Teller up on those dance lessons after all.

 **XXX**

After all the guests are gone and the apartment is back in order they sit in bed winding down from the night's events. Olivia thinks the dinner party went well and is glad her friends like Fitz. She is in a good mood and is ready to pay her debt.

"So you have now met my insane friends, babe. Carla and Tom really like you. Abby wants to date Tristan because I told her he looks _just_ like you. And Stephen -"

 _"Is a fucking asshole."_

 _"What?"_ Turning around giving him a confused look.

 _"You heard me. He's an asshole. Did you fuck him?"_ He glares at her.

 _"No! Never! Why would you ask such a thing?"_

 _"Because the asshole grilled me all night like he was a jealous lover."_

 _"What?"_

"Will you stop saying _what_? You can't tell me, Olivia, you don't know that man has a thing for you? He basically admitted it. I had to get away from him before I kicked his ass."

She is completely surprised by what she is hearing.

"Is that why you were upset in the kitchen?"

 _"Damn right. You invited your goddamn boyfriend to our dinner party and I didn't like it."_

"Wait a minute", she says, standing from the bed and folding her arms across her chest. "First, you need to be real careful how you speak to me. And second, I have never dated Stephen - never crossed my mind actually", her voice trailing off.

Fitz crawls from the bed and gets in her face, towering over her. He's pissed and he's not backing down.

 _"Well you couldn't prove it by the way he was talking!"_

 _"Why is that my problem? I don't control what comes out of Stephen Finch's mouth!"_

 _"Then you should be more selective of the kind of company you keep!"_ He yells.

 _"You're right!"_ She grabs her pillow from the bed and starts to storm from the bedroom.

 _"Where are you going? We're not done talking!"_

 _"I'm being selective about the kind of company I keep!"_ She glares at him and walks out of the bedroom, to her guest room.

 _"Fine",_ he yells, throwing his pillow across the room.

 **XXX**

They sleep in separate rooms but neither really sleeps well. They both toss and turn all night but neither is willing to acquiesce, to make things right. In the morning Fitz remembers their argument when he sees her side of the bed is empty. He goes to the bathroom and takes a long, hot shower. His muscles ache and he thinks he has to get back into the doja and he needs to make an appointment with Rika to get a deep tissue massage.

As he shampoos his hair he realizes he was wrong to accuse Olivia of having a relationship with that asshole. And she's right, she has no control over what comes out of Stephen's stupid mouth. He steps out of the shower and wraps the plush bath sheet around his body. He walks into the bedroom and digs through the drawers Liv set up for him. Since they sleep over at both places, they keep extra clothes and other personal items at each other's apartment. He's getting tired of the back and forth.

He decides to go commando today and pulls on a pair of navy blue sweat pants and a gray tee shirt. After getting dressed he goes to the kitchen where he sees Olivia sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading her tablet. She looks tired.

"Good morning", he says, walking over to the coffee maker. He pours a cup of the steamy, hot, black liquid and sits at the table across from her.

"I'm sorry", he says softly, looking into the mug he's pushing back and forth on the table. "I was wrong to accuse you of that _ass_ \- of Stephen. I was wrong for yelling. You wanted me to meet your friends and I let him get to me. I let him bait me."

"Do you not trust me?" She finally looks at him.

"Of course I trust you", he says quickly.

"Well it didn't feel like you trusted me last night. You were so quick to accuse me of something I didn't do. And that is just unfair."

"You're right. It was unfair and you didn't deserve that. I just... I guess I got jealous at the thought of ..."

"Fitz, you know you're not the first man I've dated?"

"I know."

 _"No, I mean you're not the first man that I've been with",_ looking at him pointedly.

"I know", he says softly, looking down into his mug again.

"Then what is it about Stephen, a man I haven't been intimate with?"

"Liv, I just didn't like the kind of intimacy he implied he shared with you. I got angry - jealous."

"Fitz, you have to trust that I would never intentionally expose you to someone I've dated. That just would be wrong and insensitive. Okay?"

"OK", giving her that irresistible puppy dog face "Can we now have make-up sex?"

She stares into his eyes for a long while and her heart flutters, thinking _I have really fallen for this man_.

"Yes, we can now have make up sex", swaying her hips as she walks toward the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. You Snore**

Dr. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third is in love and he doesn't care who knows or what anyone thinks about it. He doesn't care he's acting like a lovesick teenager as evidenced by him sitting in his office daydreaming about his girlfriend with whom he wants to spend all of his time.

Fitz and Olivia have known each other for 10 months and have been in an exclusive relationship for seven months and he thinks living together is the next logical step for them. He has gotten used to her staying at his apartment one or two nights a week, but he wants more. She, however, is unwilling to give up her apartment.

Fitz reclines in his chair, opens his phone, and reviews _The Plan_ , his strategy for guiding him through the process of achieving his goals, or so he thinks.

 **The Plan**

Step 1: Date casually for a few months 

Step 2: Commit to an exclusive relationship 

Step 3: Live together

Step 4: Propose/Get Engaged

Step 5: Get Married

Step 6: Start a Family

It all seems logical and straightforward to him. What could possibly go wrong? Unfortunately he didn't think about the myriad of factors that could derail his plan.

 **Later That Evening**

"Liv, I'm going to take a quick shower before we go. I'm expecting a call from the hospital so answer my phone if it rings."

"OK", she says, sitting on the sofa scrolling through the emails on her phone.

"Do you remember my password?"

"How can I forget it, Fitz? You need something more secure than _Granted123_. Anybody can hack into your phone with that password."

"I have nothing to hide, Liv", he says, walking to the bedroom.

She shakes her head because sometimes he can be so naïve. She wonders if it's a Wisconsin thing and makes a mental note to find out more about his family. She continues reading her emails about the new team she will be leading to design a commercial building on the outskirts of Phoenix. She's excited because this is the third major project she will have led while at Stearns. Fitz is excited too because she won't have to travel out of town. Fitz' phone rings, interrupting her reading.

"Dr. Grant's phone. How may I help you?" She smiles because she's acting like Lauren.

"This is Chief Beene at Children's Hospital, may I speak with Dr. Grant?"

"Dr. Grant is in the shower at the moment. Can I take a message?" She's having fun playing Fitz' secretary.

"And you are?" Cyrus asks gruffly.

"Olivia - Pope."

Cyrus rolls his eyes and runs his hand through the few strands remaining on his head.

"Just have Dr. Grant call me when he gets out of the _shower_."

"I'll give him the message, Chief Beene", Olivia says cheerily.

Olivia smiles thinking she might have missed her calling. As she sets his phone on the sofa her finger hits the Notes app and her eyes grow wide when she sees _The Plan._

"Are you ready?" Fitz asks while walking into the living room, hair still damp and ready to go out for their planned evening.

"Fitz, what's this?" She asks holding up his phone.

"My phone?" He answers slowly, wondering if it's a trick question.

"I'm talking about this document called _The Plan_ ", shaking the phone at him.

His eyes widen and he looks at her blankly.

 _"What is it, Fitz?"_ She's getting upset.

"It's nothing. Just something I've been playing around with", trying to sound casual.

"Is it nothing or is it something?" Now she is angry. "Are you planning our future without involving me?"

"No- not at all", he protests, unconvincingly. "I just like to document the steps needed to -"

"Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of game you're playing? Do you have a bet with someone – that Dr. Heller?" Looking at him in disbelief.

He hates when she cuts him off before he can finish his thought.

"Liv -"

"Fitz, you have to let our relationship evolve can't create a schedule and think everything is going to happen according to _your plan_."

He glares at her when she cuts him off again. _"Will you just let me talk for one minute?"_ Raising his voice in frustration.

Her eyes bulge because she has never heard him raise his voice. He's usually so calm. She folds her arms across her chest and glares at him.

"Liv", he starts again, more softly when he sees her battle stance. "I'm structured and organized. I set goals and devise plans to achieve my goals. I can't just stop."

"Do I have a say in _your plan_? Suppose I don't want to go along with _your plan_?"

"Liv -"

"Fitz, I am a human being who has _feelings_. I'm not an object that you can ..." She throws the phone at him in frustration. "I don't want any parts of your checklist, or your schedule, or whatever it is!" She stomps from the room in a huff and slams the bedroom door.

 _That's why I didn't want to show her The Plan_.

 **XXX**

After Fitz thinks enough time has passed for Olivia to have calmed down he knocks softly on the bedroom door before entering.

"I'm sorry", she says, sitting on the bed and looking up from her phone. "I overreacted."

He's shocked because he was prepared to apologize, to fall on his sword, so they could get past the misunderstanding and go out for the evening.

"Baby I love that you plan and organize, but Fitz you can't plan every aspect of our lives. You have to let things happen organically."

"Liv, all of my adult life I have made plans to accomplish the most important goals in my life. You are the most important thing – person to me and I wanted you - to be with you. So I just wrote down my ideas."

"I get that setting goals and making plans to achieve your goals is part of who you are. I really do get it and I wouldn't want you to change for anything in the world. But Fitz, when it comes to us – well I think sometimes you can be too methodical – too scripted."

She looks around the bedroom and thinks about how his apartment is always ordered and organized, nothing is _ever_ out of place. He looks at her somewhat confused.

"Babe, you can't have a plan for everything. You have to let things happen naturally - not try to plan every aspect of our relationship. Frankly …" She begins again more carefully because she doesn't like confrontation and doesn't want to hurt his feelings. "At times you can be a little controlling."

"Liv, I never want to control you."

"I know, but some of your behaviors sometimes feel a little controlling. You might want to think about why you _seem_ to need to control everything in your life. What do you think will happen if the great Dr. Grant isn't in control all of the time?" She's trying to lighten the mood.

"Bad things can happen, Olivia, if you don't think things through", he says with conviction.

"Fitz, we can't always prevent bad things from happening. Some things are just outside of our control."

He nods, not adopting her belief.

"Tell me about your life before you became a doctor – your earlier years?"

"I guess we're not going out tonight", realizing their plans have now changed.

"Do you have pictures of you as a teenager?" She's smiling, sitting up in the bed, getting excited about gaining some insight into the young Fitzgerald Grant.

"I do."

"I bet the girls were all over you."

Fitz goes to the huge walk-in closet and returns with a photo album. He sits next to Olivia on the bed and opens the album. He shows her the huge house, with the wraparound porch, in which he grew up. He shows her pictures of his parents, Gerry and Anneke; he has their eyes. He shows her pictures of his younger brother Tristan.

"Wow, Fitz, you and your brother could pass for twins. Are you sure your parents aren't telling you something?" She asks jokingly.

"Tristan hates whenever anyone says we look alike."

"Why? Anyone with eyes can see that you two _really_ could be twins."

"I guess he just always wanted to be his own person."

Olivia continues flipping through the photos.

"Fitz, you were involved in a lot of activities, very outgoing. You were on the lacrosse team?"

"Yup."

" _And rugby?"_ She examines the pictures closely.

"Yup."

"Tough sports. Wow, is this your church?"

"I was on a couple of the youth ministries. I really enjoyed that work, helping people." He smiles with a distant look in his eyes.

"I didn't realize you were _that_ involved in your church. You look so happy, Fitz. So carefree."

"I was. I had a good life, Liv. My parents made sure of that."

"I can see that", she says, coming to the end of the photo album. "I didn't see any pictures of your girlfriends. Where are the pictures of all the girls whose hearts you broke?" She's teasing him.

"I really didn't date in high school – too busy I guess."

" _Too busy?_ I would think you had to beat the girls off of you", she chuckles.

"Nope."

"I can't believe there wasn't a special girl who caught your eye while you were in high school, Fitz. You were a _very_ good looking guy."

"Were?" He raises his brows." You mean I'm no longer good looking?"

"Very good looking", pecking him on the cheek.

"What changed, Fitz?"

"What do you mean?" He looks at her curiously.

"You were obviously very outgoing and active. Now you're so serious – so structured." She eyes him closely.

"I grew up, Liv." He says brusquely, closing the album and walking back to the closet.

She looks at him retreat into the closet and wonders if there is something he isn't telling her. She would love to meet his family one day to get the scoop on the young Fitzgerald Grant. She's sure Tristan can tell her a lot of stories about his older brother's escapades.

"By the way, Chief Beene called while you were in the shower", she yells after him.

 **One Month Later – September**

Olivia is bone tired and just wants to sleep for the next 24 hours. She flew back to Phoenix today after wrapping up the project in Chicago. She has to make one last trip to The Windy City when the private school opens next month. Living between two cities was beginning to take its toll on her body. She's glad her next project is in Phoenix.

She steps from the shower and grabs a towel and wraps it around her body. She's glad she let Fitz convince her to come to his apartment from the airport because she loves his huge shower with all of the pulsating jets. She smiles thinking about the various settings they've used when making love. She grabs a smaller towel to dry her hair. Looking in the mirror she makes a mental note to schedule an appointment to get her hair trimmed. It's been awhile. Fitz would prefer if she never got it cut. _Damn_ , she thinks, looking around the bathroom for her favorite lotion. She wonders if Fitz moved it again. Living between two apartments is becoming more challenging. She doesn't know if her personal items are at his place or hers. She wonders how Fitz manages to juggle living between two apartments. Then she chuckles knowing he probably has it all organized in his phone. She flashes back to their "discussion" about _The Plan_ and wonders if she could tolerate living with someone who is so structured. She would be afraid to leave anything out of place. She shakes her head as she walks to the bedroom and crawls between the cool, crisp sheets. Fitz called earlier to let her know he has an emergency surgery and wouldn't be home until late so she'll have the king-sized bed all to herself for a while. She falls asleep as soon as her head hits the firm, down pillow.

Fitz finally gets home after performing a 12-hour operation on a seven-year old boy with a brain tumor. It was a long and messy procedure but thank God everything went well. The boy will have a long recovery but he will be fine in time. He smiles when he sees Olivia sleeping in his bed. He's glad the Chicago project is finally over. Flying back and forth to Chicago every other weekend was wearing him out, but he would do anything to be with her.

Fitz strips down to his boxers and crawls in bed behind Olivia and instinctually cups her breast. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of her hair. He loves her hair. He loves when she lets it grow long. He nuzzles his face in her neck and let's her scent lull him to sleep.

After a while his mouth is open and his warm breath flows onto her neck. Then the grunting and snorting begins, waking Olivia from her slumber. She rolls her eyes because his snoring has been waking her since she started staying at his place. She hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in about two weeks. Co-workers have begun to remark how tired she looks and how irritable she's been lately. Olivia peels his hand from her breast and slides out of the bed thinking she can't do this for much longer. She snatches her pillow and stomps to the living room to sleep on the sofa, again.

The next morning Fitz shuts off the alarm on his phone then goes to the bathroom to empty his bladder. He feels refreshed and energized after getting a good night's sleep. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth he walks into the living room to find Olivia. He looks a bit puzzled when he sees her sleeping on the sofa with the cream-colored throw wrapped around her body. He smiles at his girlfriend then walks into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. Olivia awakens when she hears noises coming from the kitchen and scrunches her face because her body aches. She drags herself to the kitchen and Fitz turns around with a huge smile, looking well rested.

"Kiss me", he says, smiling brightly.

She gives him an unenthusiastic peck on the lips.

"Why were you sleeping on the sofa this morning? Are you still having trouble sleeping?" He asks with concern.

"Fitz, I've been staying here on and off for almost two weeks and I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since. I'm tired all the time."

"Is it the mattress? Do we need to buy a new set?"

"No, Fitz, it's not the mattress. The mattress is fine", she says tiredly.

"Then what is it? Why aren't you sleeping? Maybe you should see someone."

"Fitz", she whines. "I'm not the problem, it's your snoring. It's just awful. You sound like a freight train. You wake me all the time in the middle of the night then I have to come out here to sleep", she says, looking over at the uncomfortable sofa.

He looks shocked.

"I snore? Is it _that_ bad?"

"Fitz, surely I'm not the first to complain about your snoring."

He looks at her befuddled.

"Come on, Fitz. Surely _someone_ has told you about your snoring in the past."

"Never."

She looks at him in disbelief.

"Well I can't sleep with you, Fitz."

" _And I can't sleep without you"_ , he interjects.

She looks at him in surprise.

"I've tried, but your snoring is too much – I can't take it. I need to go back to my apartment."

 _"No!"_

 _"No?"_

"I mean don't go, please."

"But Fitz, I'm just tired. I need to sleep."

"I'll get help", he says desperately.

" _Help?_ What kind of help?" Unsure of what he's suggesting.

"I'm not sure. But there are a lot of different interventions nowadays."

"Fitz, I don't want you -"

"I'll make an appointment for a consultation. I'll call Natalie today. She's an ENT. Hopefully she can get us in soon."

 _"Us?"_

"Yes. You'll have to tell her what you're experiencing - describe my sleeping patterns."

Olivia looks uncertain.

"Come on, Liv. I don't want this to be an issue for you - for us."

""I don't know, Fitz. I need to think about it."

"Come on Liv, there's nothing to think about. Just tell Natalie what's happening." He looks at her pleadingly.

She hates when he pushes her to make a quick decision. She looks into his eyes for a moment then agrees to go with him to his appointment.

"OK", she says reluctantly, thinking she's gives in to him too often. 

**XXX**

Fitz and Olivia sit in the chairs in front of Dr. Natalie Whisher's desk holding hands as the doctor looks at her laptop screen reviewing Fitz' medical history. Dr. Whisher looks up from the screen, removes her eyeglasses, and closely assesses Olivia's appearance. She smiles tightly, knowing this is the woman Fitz brought to the gala.

"So Fitz, according to your chart you seem to be in good health. You should know, however, that research has found that snoring not only can lead to exhaustion, headaches, and high blood pressure, it could also have more serious health effects. We should run some basic tests to get a baseline of your numbers - to see if there is an underlying issue."

"OK", squeezing Olivia's hand lightly.

"So, are you still doing the kickboxing thing?" She asks, smiling sweetly.

"Taekwondo. And whenever I can find the time."

"I remember you were really into it for a while. I started to think it was an obsession."

Not liking the flow of the conversation, Olivia slides her hand from Fitz' hand. Fitz looks at her from the corner of his eye and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"Well Dr. Whisher ..." He says, trying to shift the conversation back to the purpose of his appointment. "What's next, how do we find out if I have a sleep disorder?"

"Let me ask, uh …" looking at her screen again. "It's Olivia, right?"

Olivia stares at the pretentious woman and wants to slap that smirk from her face. Fitz reaches for Olivia's hand but she folds them on her lap. Dr. Whisher nods and continues.

"So, uh, Olivia. Tell me what your experience has been - when Fitz is asleep."

Olivia glances at Fitz briefly then begins.

"Well Dr. Whisher, about an hour and a half or so after he falls asleep the snoring begins. The sound is awful, most nights I have to go sleep on the sofa."

"I didn't know you were sleeping on the sofa _most_ nights", looking at Olivia in surprise.

"I see. Can you tell me what is happening before the snoring begins?"

"Well it depends", Olivia says, reflecting on the most recent incidents. "If he gets home late, after a long surgery, and is really tired, he'll snore."

"Is his mouth open or closed when he's snoring?"

"Usually open."

Dr. Whisher nods her head as she types notes into Fitz' chart.

"Can you tell me about Fitz' sleeping position? Is he on his back? On his side?"

"Usually on his side because he likes to spoon." Olivia looks at Fitz and smiles shyly, and he smiles too.

"I remember", Dr. Whisher says softly, but loud enough for Olivia to hear.

Fitz' eyes stretch wide, shocked by Natalie's comment. Olivia stands abruptly from her seat and looks between the two of them.

"Livvie ..." Fitz reaches for her arm but she pulls away.

" _Natalie_ , you obviously know as much as I do about Fitz' sleeping habits so why don't you answer your own _damn_ questions." Olivia storms from the office, ignoring Fitz calling after her. He runs from the office and catches up with her at the elevator.

"Liv. Livvie", he says, somewhat out of breath.

 _"Why would you bring me here, to meet with a woman you used to fuck? How humiliating."_

"Liv -"

He reaches for her arm and she yanks away again, glaring at him with contempt.

 _"For someone who is supposed to be so damn smart you're such an asshole. Are you still fucking her?"_

 _"No! Of course not!"_ Shocked by the question.

"Well I'm done", she says, frantically pushing the elevator button. She needs to get away from him before she does something she might regret. "You don't have to worry about fixing your snoring problem for me because we won't be sleeping together again."

When the elevator doors open she walks in quickly and he begins to follow.

 _"No! You wait for the next elevator."_

"Livvie, I ..."

Olivia pushes the button repeatedly to close the doors, struggling not to cry, as Fitz stands in the hall looking confused.

 _"Shit, shit, shit",_ he says through clenched teeth as the elevator doors close.

 **XXX**

Fitz decides to give Olivia time to cool down before trying to contact her again. He knows if he pushes her to talk before she's ready she will shut down even more. But now it's been three days and he still hasn't heard from her and he is growing more anxious. He misses her because they have been inseparable since officially becoming a couple eight months ago.

Every hour on the hour for the past three hours Mrs. Teller looks out of her peephole to watch Olivia's young man sitting on the floor outside of her apartment. Finally she opens her door to put the man out of his misery.

"Psst."

Fitz groans and keeps his head bowed between his bent knees, not in the mood today to talk to the old busy-body. He performed a 10-hour surgery on a three-year-old girl and he is exhausted.

"Psst." The old woman calls to him again.

"What is it now, Mrs. Teller?" Fitz asks tiredly.

"I know where she is."

Fitz perks up and scrambles to his feet.

"Where is she? Is she okay?"

"I knew that would get your attention. I've been watching you sit out here for the past three hours. Was wondering how long you were going to wait for her."

"Mrs. Teller, please", he whines.

"You must've really messed up this time. What did you do?" She's being nosey again.

"Mrs. Teller, I don't -"

"You want to know where she is, don't you?"

Fitz sighs and tells the old woman everything that happened.

"I know you're not a stupid man, but you are a naive man." Mrs. Teller begins her lecture.

Fitz starts to protest but Mrs. Teller raises her hand to stop him.

"You are a kind and good man and you think everyone else operates from your same set of principles, but they don't. Some people are always working their agenda. Not thinking that your _ex_ -girlfriend wouldn't be angry that you are bringing your _new_ girlfriend to her to discuss your little sleep problem was naive of you. And put yourself in Olivia's shoes. Think how you would feel if she asked you to discuss a personal matter with an ex-boyfriend."

Mrs. Teller can see the thought bubble forming above Fitz' head.

"Now you get it", the old woman says, nodding her head and pulling her shawl around her shoulders. "Natalie was paying you back, punishing you for dumping her, and now you're _surprised_." She shakes her head in disbelief. "And now you may have lost Olivia too."

"Where is she Mrs. Teller? I need to apologize."

"Sometimes an apology isn't good enough. Sometimes people need to know that they've been heard. You need to _really_ understand how Olivia must have felt when she realized she was comparing notes about you with your ex-girlfriend."

Fitz nods.

"She's in New York, on business for two more days."

"I forgot", he says, closing his eyes.

"You have to start listening with your heart, not just your ears. And you have to start speaking from your heart, not just your mouth."

"Thank you, Mrs. Teller", he yells as he rushes onto the elevator. "You're a real angel."

The old woman smiles, pulls her shawl tightly around her shoulders, and closes her door.

 **XXX**

Olivia is glad she had this business trip to New York City scheduled because she is so angry with Fitz; she needed to get away from him for a while. She still can't believe he was so insensitive and disrespectful to have her meet with his ex-girlfriend to discuss his sleep problems.

Olivia stands in the lobby, out of the path of the hotel traffic, with her colleague and principal architect, Phil Avaya, discussing their earlier meeting with the design team. They are both excited their firm has been selected to design the new headquarters for the popular technology company in downtown Phoenix.

"Olivia, I'm really thrilled to be leading this project. Winning this contract is a coup for the firm", Phil says, placing a hand on Olivia's arm.

"I'm excited too, Phil. This is the biggest contract Stearns has ever won. This project is going to really put us on the map", she says, smiling brightly.

"Well, we should really go out and celebrate but I have to get upstairs and call Meghan. Every night she wants to update me on the wedding plans." Phil rolls his eyes as if he's bored with all of the wedding stuff, but actually he is quite anxious to hear what his fiancée has to tell him tonight.

"We'll celebrate another time. I'm a little tired and just want to get to my room and relax. Rain check?"

"Rain check. By the way, you're still coming to our wedding aren't you?"

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. I have to see the last of the bachelors actually get married."

"I love her Olivia."

Olivia smiles and the two colleagues hug and Phil pecks her on the cheek before he walks to the elevator. Olivia goes to the front desk to exchange her defective room keys then walks toward the elevator.

"Olivia."

Olivia stops in her tracks, she'd recognize that voice anywhere. She turns and comes face to face with the man who's at the center of her ire.

"What are you doing here?" She asks with an edge to her voice.

"You won't return my calls", taking a step toward her.

She takes a step back. "I have nothing to say to you", pushing the elevator button.

"Please, Liv. Can we go someplace and talk."

"Talking is over."

"Hey, Olivia. Good meeting today", Marsha and Daniella say, heading out for a night on the town based on their attire.

"It was", Olivia says to the two woman, giving them a fake smile.

"Then I'll say what I need to say right here - in this lobby. I'm sure your colleagues would _love_ to hear what I have to say." He smirks because he knows how closely Olivia guards her privacy.

She scowls at him. "Fine. We can talk in the bar."

Fitz nods and follows Olivia as she struts toward the hotel's bar. They sit across from each other in a booth in the back of the bar. The happy hour crowd has begun to fill up the space.

"Would you like to see a menu?" The young, redhead waitress asks, looking between the two.

"No", they say in unison.

"Well, can I get you something from the bar?"

"I'll have a glass of your house Cabernet."

"And I'll have a scotch - on the rocks", Fitz says.

"I'll be back shortly with your drinks", tucking the menus under her arms as she walks away.

Olivia taps her gel-manicured nails on the table top and glares at Fitz.

"I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to stare at me", she says coldly. She knows she's being a bitch and she doesn't care. He humiliated her in front of that _bitch_ doctor.

"I'm sorry", he says sadly.

Olivia rolls her eyes, tired of his lame apologies. The waitress returns with their drinks.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No", Fitz says quickly.

The waitress nods and walks away as they each sip their drink.

"I flew across the country to apologize to you and to explain."

She looks at him blankly, determined not to make this easy for him.

"Liv, I don't want to lose you because of a -"

"Are you some kind of sick pervert?" She asks bluntly, cutting him off.

 _"What?"_ Fitz asks in shock.

"Do you get off by having women you _fucked_ discuss you while you sit back and watch? What's next, you want to watch me and Natalie _fuck_?"

"You're being disgusting."

 _"Don't you dare try to judge me - chastise me. I'm not the pervert here!"_

 _"Stop calling me a pervert. You know better."_ He yells over the music that is now way too loud.

 _"I don't know anything except you humiliated me and I won't forgive you for that."_

"Please, Liv. Just let me explain - hear me out. After you've heard what I have to say – well if you still don't want to see me again then ..."

He shakes his head in annoyance because the music is too loud and he has to shout so she can hear him.

"We can't talk here. It's too noisy. Can we discuss this in your room?"

She eyes him for a moment, then nods.

"And you better not try anything", she snarls.

Fitz places a few bills on the table to pay for their drinks then follows Olivia back to the lobby. As the elevator ascends to the 10th floor she stands in the far-right corner with her arms folded. They ride in silence.

 **XXX**

"Nice", he says, looking around the deluxe room.

"Sit", she says, pointing to the small, round table in the corner of the room holding local magazines, today's newspaper, the room service menu, and a couple bottles of water.

Fitz sits and crosses his legs while Olivia stands across from him with folded arms.

"Sit, Olivia. Please?"

She sits at the table across from him, strumming her fingernails on the hardwood table top.

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

Olivia glares at him.

"Olivia - Liv. I'm sorry. Please know that it was _never_ my intention to embarrass or humiliate you." He looks at her for a moment then continues.

"Liv, my surgical cases are about solving problems. On a daily basis I have to make decisions - weighing the possibility of saving patients from slow deterioration or constant pain against the danger of making them worse. I have to be decisive inside and outside of the operating room. When I'm in the operating room a moment's hesitation can result in the loss of life. Perhaps this sometimes carries over into my personal life."

" _Perhaps?"_

"Liv, my snoring was a problem for you – for us - and I wanted to solve it immediately because I wanted you to stay with me – not go back to your apartment. So I came up with what I thought was the most expedient way to solve the problem. Unfortunately, I didn't think about the implications of my decision."

"Fitz, I understand that you have to be decisive when making life and death decisions, but this wasn't a life and death decision. You could have taken the time to consider other options to solve your snoring problem other than consulting with your _fuck_ buddy." Her anger is rising again.

"Okay first, Natalie is not my _fuck_ buddy. I have not seen her in almost a year. We had a brief relationship, a few dates actually, and it didn't work out. She wanted more and I didn't so we decided it was best to end it."

"Fitz, was the decision mutual or did you decide to end things with Natalie? Because it's quite obvious she's harboring some resentments toward you."

"Yeah, that was a surprise. I thought we were okay. I don't understand why Natalie would do such a thing." He shakes his head.

" _That's my point, Fitz! You shouldn't have been surprised by Natalie's reaction – you should have expected it."_

He nods his head.

"And you should have predicted how I would react when I discovered I was discussing your sleeping habits with your _fuck_ buddy."

"Liv –"

"Don't _Liv_ me. Don't be so _damned_ naïve, Fitz. As you analyze the various factors for a surgical procedure you need to start analyzing the emotional fall-out of your personal decisions. I was so damn angry with you."

"Was?" He gives her a hopeful, puppy dog look.

"Don't give me _that_ look", she says, kicking him lightly under the table.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. I simply saw Natalie as a solution to our problem, nothing more. And Liv, I do understand how you feel. I get what you're saying. Of course you wouldn't want to discuss our personal issues with someone I dated. I just wanted to solve the problem." He slides his hand across the table and places it on top of hers.

"Good. I'm glad you get how I feel."

I found a new ENT, by the way", he says smiling.

"Good", she smiles reluctantly.

"Olivia, who was that guy kissing you in the lobby earlier?"

 **XXX**

The clothes are discarded quickly and she lay atop him in the king-sized bed, lips fused together. She holds his face between her hands and kisses him deeply. He opens his mouth and her tongue is once again at home. He moans and squeezes her ass, his tongue now roaming the interior of her warm, wet mouth.

"I've missed you so much", she says, looking deep into his eyes.

He captures her lips again and rolls her onto her back as her juices stream down the inside of her thighs.

"I was going crazy without you", he says huskily as his lips trail down her throat. "Don't leave me again - shut me out again." His mouth is on a breast and he licks the mound like a starved man. She opens her legs and he glides the head up and down her slit, further stimulating the flow of her juices. And she moans at the slow, delicious torture.

"Protection", he exhales.

"No", holding him tightly.

He looks into her eyes and nods.

"I trust you", pulling him down. "I need to feel you – all of you."

He glides in effortlessly and they both gasp. They're flesh to flesh and the feeling is amazing. His unsheathed rod feels extraordinary.

"Oh my god, Fitz."

Completely connected they stare into each other's eyes enjoying being one again. Their eyes convey all of the love words cannot sufficiently express. She grazes her fingernails through the sides of his soft curls and pulls him down for another searing kiss. Then she smiles, her subtle signal, and they begin the slow and pleasurable ride, completely enraptured in one another.

Tonight their lovemaking is so sensual, transcending their usual coupling. It feels ethereal. The connection is as spiritual as it is physical. He strokes slowly and tenderly and she moves in kind, silently consenting to surrender their hearts to each other. Then she begins to cry because she knows this is something more. He cups her face and kisses her tears away.

"I love you", he whispers in her ear, in the dark, in her hotel room. Unplanned, unpracticed, and unscripted, and from the heart.

He slides his hands under her bottom, lifting her to meet his thrusts. Her breasts bounce as he thrusts vigorously.

"Oh my god, Fitz. Oh my god. Don't stop. Please, please don't stop."

"You like that, Livvie? Tell me you like it." His veins strain against his forearms as he holds her and thrusts.

"Yes. Yes."

His swollen head teases her spot and she arches higher, beckoning him to hit it, needing him to hit it. Beads of sweat dot her forehead and her mouth hangs open.

"Deeper, Fitz. Harder", she pleads.

He rests his forehead on hers and strokes deeply. His eyes are shut tightly and his mouth is slightly agape as he thrusts harder and goes deeper. Then he hits it and she screams out in ecstasy.

He lowers her onto the bed and kisses her open mouth, and then begins to work on his pleasure. His rapid pumping transitions to long, deep, rhythmic strokes and he feels like he's on top of the world. He doesn't want to cum but he wants to cum. His sac tightens and he thinks if he died right now, in this moment, everything would be okay. He gasps unexpectedly and releases, flowing endlessly into her channel.

"My god, my god", he screams, squeezing her tightly.

She holds him tightly and they kiss and he continues to grind slowly as he softens, relishing the last of his pleasure. Their hearts pound against each other's chest; they're vibrating. Her legs fall from his waist, onto the no longer crisp white sheets, and he slumps onto her. He's breathing heavily, unable to speak, and seemingly unable to move.

"That was …" She's grinning broadly, rubbing circles on his ass.

"Phenomenal."

Laying on their side, face to face, he drapes his long leg over her hip.

"Now kiss me."

 **Pre-dawn**

Fitz wears only his boxers as he sits in the contemporary, wing-backed chair situated adjacent to the bed and watches her sleep. He marvels at the woman who has changed him forever. Having no contact with her for the past three days has him off his game and his colleagues have noted as much. He has been distracted and unorganized. He's been grumpy and short with the staff, throwing surgical tools across the operating room when the surgical nurse handed him the #10 scalpel he requested when he needed a #8.

He runs his hand through his hair thinking he cannot continue on like this, dividing his mind between work and her. His work has been getting the short end of the stick lately. Hell, he'd even canceled a surgery to fly across the country to try to win her back. He barely recognizes the man he has become. He wonders if she realizes how much she controls him. He has to get his shit together.

She snores lightly, interrupting his reverie, and he smiles. She would deny until the end of time that she snores too. He looks at the clock on the nightstand and shakes his head. It's 12:45 AM in Phoenix. He should be asleep, but here he sits in the dark gazing at the woman he cannot seem to function properly without, gazing at her like a lovesick teenager.

Having her move in with him will solve his problem, at least alleviate his anxiety about losing her, and allow him to focus on work again. He decides to ask her again to move in with him when they return to Phoenix. He yawns, knowing he needs to get some sleep, so he crawls into bed behind her and snakes his arm under her arm and cups her bare breast. He nuzzles his face into her neck and inhales deeply, loving the scent of her hair, of her.

"Fitz?" She says half asleep.

"Go back to sleep", he says softly, pulling her closer. In that moment he knew that his heart has been lost to her forever.

 **XXX**

The week-long architectural design meetings are scheduled to end at noon today and Olivia hopes they can wrap up things early so she and Fitz can explore New York City. While Olivia is at her meetings Fitz stays at the hotel and tries to get some work done. He sits at the small, round table and pulls his laptop from his leather satchel and reviews the case he rescheduled while he waits for room service to deliver his breakfast. The surgery would be pretty routine, although long. He closes the file, returns the laptop to his satchel, and reaches for his phone and calls Cyrus.

As Cyrus Beene sits in his office at Children's Hospital, he is more than a little miffed after learning the errant Dr. Grant canceled a surgery that has been on the schedule for months. He is further enraged when he is informed that Dr. Grant will be out of the office for the next three days.

Cyrus sucks in a roomful of air and his body swells, causing him to look like one of those oversized balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. He's tried to be patient with the younger doctor but he has gone too far. Things are getting out of control. Dr. Grant is getting out of control. Something has to be done. Cyrus looks down at his ringing phone and taps the phone icon.

 _"Where the hell are you, Dr. Grant?"_ Cyrus roars into the phone.

"Good morning to you, too, Chief Beene", trying to make light of the matter but failing miserably.

"I don't have time for pleasantries when my head surgeon starts canceling procedures without notice. Do you know how much your little disappearing act is costing this hospital? We had a whole surgical team ready to go and you call out _fucking_ sick. Did you think about the family - how they would react to the last-minute change?"

"I'm sorry, Cyrus. I had a personal matter that needed my immediate attention."

"Who is she?"

 _"What?"_

"Is it the woman you brought to the gala? Is she the reason you've been walking around here with your head up your ass this past week?"

"Cyrus -"

 _"Don't Cyrus me, damn it! Something or someone has you off of your game lately. You need to get your shit together before things get too far out of control. Do you understand, Dr. Grant?"_

"Yes."

 _"Fine. We'll discuss this further when you return to Phoenix."_

Cyrus disconnects the call and Fitz sits at the table looking dumbfounded. He really has to get his shit together.

 **XXX**

Olivia's meeting ends at 12:30, a little later than she hoped, but on the bright side Fitz is waiting for her back at the hotel.

"Hey, Olivia. We saw you last night with that fine specimen of a man. You go, girl", Marsha says as she and Daniella stroll by the conference room, giving her a knowing look.

Olivia blushes as she hurries from the conference room and down to the street to catch a cab back to the hotel. She slides her card key into the lock, enters the room, and smiles when she hears the shower. She slips out of her clothes and walks into the steam-filled bathroom and slides open the shower door, startling Fitz.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought you could use a little help", she says, smiling mischievously.

"I can always use your help, Livvie", giving her that stupid smirk she loves so much.

He bends down and gives her the kiss that always takes her breath away, then he reaches down and strokes her pocket, and she begins to moan.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson for sneaking up on me", thrusting his finger in and out of her heat.

She lifts her leg onto the bench, giving him more access and he strokes her nub until she gasps and slumps against his chest.

"Now if you don't mind Miss Pope, I would like to finish my shower."

 **XXX**

After a day of touring the Big Apple Olivia and Fitz return to the hotel and start packing their bags to head back to Phoenix tomorrow. Fitz has been silent since they returned to their room from dinner.

"Babe, are you okay? You've been quiet since we got back from dinner."

"I'm fine, Olivia."

Her antennae go up. Something is definitely wrong if he is using the _O_ word. She walks behind him and wraps her arms around his waist as he stares out the window.

"What's the matter, babe? Tell me." She runs her hand up and down his chest soothingly. He shakes his head.

"Tell me", she says softly, kissing his back. His body is tense.

"I've been distracted, not focused", running a hand through his hair.

She freezes because she knows what that means.

"Fitz ..."

"Cyrus wants to kick my ass, again. I've canceled surgeries that have been on the schedule for months. I can't go into that room - not like this. It's unfair to the children and their families, Liv."

"Fitz ..."

"I'm finding it increasingly difficult to compartmentalize - to separate my professional life and my personal life these days. You've changed me Miss Pope." He smiles weakly.

She looks up at him with trembling lips.

"I love you, Liv, more than anything. You're on my mind all the _damn_ time."

She wraps her arms tightly around his waist and rests her head on his back. They stand like that, in silence, for a few minutes.

"Come back to me, Livvie."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Guess it's about time to say again I don't own anything Scandal related. Enjoying the reviews. OliviaLovesFitz8, your wondering is on track. Clio1792, you're right, Fitz has some big secrets. Kelleekellkell, such kind words. BTW, this is an Olitz story, they're my only reason for writing FF. Next chapter, back to the present, back to Wisconsin. Here we go!

 **Chapter 6. The Stares**

Olivia climbs into the backseat of the taxi waiting curbside at their Midtown Manhattan hotel and Fitz climbs in behind her. They both burst out laughing recalling their first taxi ride together.

"JFK", Fitz directs the driver.

"Babe, that day was too funny. The poor doorman -"

"You were so mad. And when the taxi driver made you sit in the back with me ..." She brings her hand to her mouth laughing hard.

"I thought you were the rudest person I had ever met."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You were", pecking her on the cheek.

 **XXX**

After Olivia and Fitz finally snake their way through the long and slow moving security line at JFK International Airport they find their gate, settle into the last two open and connecting seats, and wait to board their flight to Phoenix. The monitor indicates their plane is now 30 minutes late.

"Fitz, did you enjoy being in New York?" She asks, eyeing him carefully.

"It was okay. I'll be fine no matter where we are, Liv", giving her that stupid smirk.

"We have to come back, Fitz. There is so much we didn't get a chance to see – all of the museums, the theaters, and of course the restaurants."

"OK", wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

An elderly couple with matching green eyes sits directly across from Olivia and Fitz and sneaks another peek at the younger couple. They shake their heads disapprovingly. Another 15 minutes pass and the monitor now indicates their flight will be delayed for two more hours because of bad weather in Toledo.

"Aww, babe, if I had known our flight was going to be delayed we could've stayed at the hotel a little longer.

Fitz studies the monitor closely.

"Do you want to get something to eat – some lunch? She asks, pouting a little.

"Sure", getting up and grabbing her hand. "Let's see what we can find to eat around this place."

Fitz and Olivia find a sports bar a few steps away from their gate and read the menu posted outside the restaurant and decide to test their luck. The airline will send an email if their flight status changes.

"Are you two together?" The waitress with dreadlocks asks while chewing a mouthful of gum.

They look at each other because it's obvious they're together, after all they're sitting at the same table and talking to each other.

"Yes we are", Fitz says, looking up at the waitress.

"Okay. What can I get you?" Blowing small bubbles with her gum.

They place their order and resume talking about a return trip to New York.

"Fitz, I love this city. It's so big, so alive."

"It is", smiling at her enthusiasm.

"I don't know why I never came up here when I lived in Philadelphia. It's only a few hours away."

"Well I've never been here either. It's not Phoenix and it certainly isn't Wisconsin."

"You mean you never came here when you were at Harvard?"

"Nope."

The waitress returns with their lunch order and tosses the food onto the table. They look at each other because of the woman's obvious rudeness.

"Is there a problem?" Fitz looks at the woman with his piercing blue eyes.

" _Excuse you?"_ The waitress responds, chewing her gum.

Olivia grows quiet and looks down at her food.

"You are being rude and I want to know why", Fitz continues.

"Fitz, don't", Olivia says softly.

"I don't know what _you're_ talking about", she says with an attitude. She rolls her eyes at Olivia before walking away.

"What's her problem?"

"Let's just go back to the gate, Fitz. I don't think I want to eat this food", Olivia says softly.

"Maybe I should speak to her manager?" His voice is getting louder.

"You do that, _Fitz_ ", the waitress shouts from across the dining room.

"Let's just go, Fitz", pulling him from his seat and out of the restaurant.

The man sitting at the bar frowns at the couple as he watches them walk from the restaurant.

"Let's grab a couple slices of New York-style pizza and eat at the gate", Olivia says, trying to diffuse the situation.

He's angry because he doesn't know why the waitress was being so rude to them.

"This is good pizza, Fitz. New York has so much wonderful food."

"You really like this city."

"I do."

They eat in silence for a few minutes.

"Fitz …" She starts slowly.

"Hmm?" He's sipping his drink and looking at the monitor to see if there is an update on their flight.

" _Fitz",_ she says more firmly, trying to get his attention.

He turns his attention to her and smiles.

"Fitz, can you see yourself living in a big city like New York? Phoenix is big but it's no New York."

"I don't know, Liv. I've never thought about it. Why do you ask?"

"Well …" She begins slowly.

"I _might_ have the opportunity to work in New York - to move here." She watches his expression slowly transform from calm to tense and his eyes darken."

He's in shock and can't speak. His brain hasn't caught up with what his ears are hearing.

"Do you remember when I told you that I was writing a proposal for Stearns to consider starting a low- to middle-income housing development unit?" She's getting excited.

He nods slowly. His heart is racing and he's trying to appear calm.

"Well …" She moves closer to him, her smile stretching across her face.

"Stearns has accepted my proposal." She's nodding her head vigorously.

"They thought it was a good idea since the government has gotten out of the business of building homes for people in those income brackets." She's ready to burst.

"And they want to open an office here in New York." She's beside herself with happiness.

"And guess what?" She grabs his wrist, not bothering to wait for him to guess.

"They want me to lead the unit – here - in New York City, Fitz." She's bouncing in her seat from excitement.

He looks at her stunned for a long moment and is finding it difficult to breathe. He doesn't know what to say. He feels sweat forming on his forehead, his heart beats rapidly, and he hears the blood rushing through his ears. Finally he finds his voice.

"Olivia, that's terrific. Congratulations", giving her a forced smile.

She looks at him because he just used the _O_ word and he doesn't look happy.

"I have to go to the bathroom", he says abruptly.

She watches him hurry away from the gate before she could share the rest of her good news. After more than 30 minutes pass Fitz returns to the gate and sits next to Olivia. He looks haggard.

"Fitz, are you all right?" Looking at him with concern.

"I'm fine, Olivia." He's not looking at her, instead he's staring out the huge windows at nothing in particular.

Now she knows something's wrong. She takes his hand between her hands and speaks softly to his tense profile.

"As I was saying, Stearns wants to open a unit here in New York and they want me to lead it."

She watches him as his jaw clenches tighter.

" _But_ , we need to develop a strategy for the new unit, find a location, and work with local and federal officials. There is just so much to plan before we can even think about opening an office any time soon. Stearns thinks it will take at least a year to set up everything."

She looks at him closely and sees his face begin to relax somewhat. He leans back in his seat and looks at her. He notices she has tamped down her enthusiasm and he feels awful. He knows he's being selfish because he doesn't want her to move to New York, doesn't want to lose her.

"Liv, I was taken aback when I heard your news. I must admit I wasn't expecting that. But I am really, truly happy for you. This is such a great opportunity. I'm proud of you, baby." He gives her a genuine smile this time.

"Are you sure, Fitz?" Pouting slightly and no longer excited about sharing her good fortune.

"Kiss me", thinking his timeline has now shifted.

She beams brightly and gives him a big, wet kiss.

 _Flight 753 to Phoenix will be boarding in 15 minutes._

 **Three Weeks Later**

As Olivia sits on the sofa in Fitz' apartment she begins to set up the movie Fitz wants to watch. She clicks the Netflix icon displayed on his SMART TV screen, scrolls through the movies listings, and queues up the movie. Fitz is in the kitchen getting a bottle of beer for him and a glass of wine for her. She starts the movie as he walks into the living room. He gives her the glass of wine, sits onto the sofa, and grabs the remote from her hand. She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her wine.

"Fitz, you know how important family is to me, right?"

"I do", he says softly, stretching his legs onto the coffee table and pointing the remote at the television.

"Fitz, I've told you _everything_ about me - about my biological parents and adoptive parents - who were absolutely wonderful to me. They showered me with so much love and ensured I had everything I needed - more than I needed really. They made sure I got a terrific education so I could explore options in life."

He pushes the pause button on the remote, realizing she has something on her mind and is not interested in watching the movie. He turns and smiles at her.

"But Fitz", she says softly. "No matter how much my family loved me, I never felt good enough." She checks his face to see how he's absorbing her confession.

"Babe, don't do this to yourself." He sets the remote on the sofa and pulls her into his arms.

"I'm not. But Fitz, every child wants to know their biological parents, no matter how horrible they might have been. The yearning never goes away. Fitz …" She drops her eyes before continuing. "Sometimes I think if my own parents didn't think I was good enough to keep - if they didn't want me, then why would anyone else want me?"

"I want you, Livvie. I'll always want you", rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

She gives a weak smile and lays her head on his shoulder.

"Liv, your parents were unable to care for you, but they made sure you got to a safe place. I know it's not the same as having them, but they wanted more for you. Allowing you to be adopted could have been their way of giving you what they couldn't. You can look at it as an act of love - of selflessness."

Olivia nods and the tears roll down her cheeks and he pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. She takes a deep breath and prepares to reveal another fear.

"Fitz, the fear of rejection is always there for me."

"I didn't know, babe." He says softly, kissing her again and holding her a little tighter. "I'm so sorry."

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

"Baby, do you ever get tired of the stares?"

"The stares?" He's not sure if they're on the same subject or if she has moved on to another topic.

Olivia leans back and looks at him and he looks at her curiously because he really doesn't know what she's talking about.

 _"Yes, Fitz. The stares_ _."_ Looking at him incredulously.

"Liv, you've got to give me a bit more here. I don't know what you're talking about."

She stands from the sofa and looks at him. _He can be so dense sometimes._

"Fitz, don't be so obtuse. You have to notice the stares we get whenever we're out together?"

He looks at her blankly.

 _"Fitz, please._ _How can you not know what I'm talking about? People stare at us all the time when we're out together._ I guess it's still difficult for people to accept interracial couples, especially when a white man is with a black woman", she says softly.

 _"What?"_

She sits on the sofa again, takes his hand in hers, and looks into his eyes.

"Fitz, baby, surely you know some of the stereotypes - Sally Hemmings, Thomas Jefferson!"

"Liv …"

"Some people view us being together in different ways. Some will think I'm your _whore_ \- that you're paying for my company. Some will think I'm a novelty - your latest curiosity.

"Liv ..."

"Others will think I am a sell-out, giving myself to a white man who once enslaved my people." Dr. Ramsey's words still haunt her.

 _"I don't think that way and I don't give a damn about people who do."_

"Fitz, you can't be naive about this."

"Olivia, I am so _damned_ tired of people calling me naive. I know we're in an interracial relationship. Just because I choose not to let society dictate who I should love doesn't mean I'm naive." He's getting angry. "Liv, I wasn't raised by racist, bigoted parents."

"But Fitz, my question is do you get tired of the stares?"

 _"No! Do you?"_

She wasn't expecting the tables to turn on her. Again she needs to think about if she's really ready for an interracial relationship. She remembers her conversation with Mrs. Teller.

"Honestly, babe, sometimes I do", she says softly.

He huffs, stands from the sofa, and starts walking away.

"Wait, wait. Don't walk away. Let's talk about this", she pleads, following him across the room.

"I thought we already had this conversation once ", he says tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

"Just because we discussed it once doesn't mean we can't talk about it again."

"Where is this coming from, Liv? Why are you bringing this up again tonight?"

Didn't you see the nasty looks the old couple at JFK kept giving us? And the waitress in the restaurant?"

"Liv, I love you. I'm in love with you and I don't give a _damn_ about who doesn't like it."

"We should be able to talk about these things, Fitz. We _have_ to be able to talk about these things."

"Baby, I don't want the differences in our race to define us. I don't want us to waste our time worrying about what people think about us when we walk down the street or when we go to the _god_ _damn_ supermarket - people we don't even know or give a _shit_ about."

He's getting frustrated because she won't drop the subject.

"Liv, baby, you gotta be okay with us. _You_ gotta be okay with the stares. _You_ gotta know that there is no Sally or Thomas here. It's just us, Olivia and Fitz - two people who want to be together no matter what anyone else thinks. Okay?"

She eyes him intently, looking in his eyes for any sign of uncertainty or doubt. Then she nods.

"Now kiss me", he says.

She smiles broadly as he wraps his hands around her ass and pulls her close.

"Olivia", he says, more seriously, looking into her eyes. "I need _you_ to be okay with us. If you can't do this then let me know, baby, because I'm in this for the long haul."

She sees the sincerity in his eyes and decides to drop the subject for now.

"I'm in this for the long haul too. I - I just get scared sometimes."

"What scares you about us?" Looking at her with concern.

She hesitates for a moment before sharing another fear.

"Fitz …" She takes a deep breath before continuing. "Sometimes I get scared that you'll wake up one day - that the pressure will become too much - and you won't want to do this anymore - won't want me anymore. I couldn't take that kind of rejection."

She tries to pull away from him but he holds on to her tighter.

"Don't hide from me, Livvie."

She stills her movements and looks into his eyes.

"You know I can say the same thing, Liv. I'm afraid of losing you all the time." He looks at her as if he just let the cat out of the bag and she looks at him in shock.

"Liv, I spend too many hours of my day worrying if I am going to lose you. I love you more than anything. You're everything to me and I want to spend all of my time with you. When you didn't talk to me for days I panicked." He begins to pace around the room, running his hand through his hair.

She looks at him in surprise.

"Liv, I went to New York because I was devastated – because I thought I'd lost you. I needed to explain - to win you back."

"You never lost me, Fitz."

"Well, it sure felt like it."

"Fitz …"

"Babe, there is no pressure for me. If you decide - we decide that this - what we have isn't working, it won't be because I am a white and you are black. Is this why you won't move in with me?"

"I've been thinking about that too, Fitz."

He strains not to roll his eyes because she always needs time to think things over.

"While I won't move in with you …"

His features harden.

"I will commit to staying here two to three nights a week. I'm staying here a couple of nights a week already", she adds quickly."

He smiles and walks over to her.

"Three to four nights and it's a deal", he insists.

"Fitz, I like my apartment."

"I like it too. Three to four nights", he says, grabbing her around the waist.

"Okay, okay. Three to four nights, but only because your snoring has gotten better. They both smile. "And Fitz, we have to talk about you being such a neat freak."

He looks at her astonished because he doesn't think he's a neat freak at all.

 **One Week Later**

Olivia stands in the middle of the huge walk-in closet and looks around at all of Fitz' clothes that are hang neatly and coordinated by color. She shakes her head because she would never have pegged him for being a clothes horse.

"Fitz, you have to move more of your shirts and suits. I'm going to need more space for my clothes."

"OK. I'll put them in the guest room." He's smiling because he'd clear out his whole closet if it means she will be spending more time with him.

"Do you have anything else in the car you need me to get?" He calls from the bedroom.

"There's one more box on the back seat. Can you get it for me, babe?"

"Sure."

Fitz brings the box in from the car and sets it on the floor by the door. Then he goes to the guest room and brings the huge wrapped item into the living room. He removes the brown paper, steps back, and smiles.

"Liv, come check if this is the box you were talking about."

"Fitz, there was only one box left on the backseat." She doesn't have time to check on the box because she's trying to organize her clothes in the new space.

"Well, I saw two and I'm not sure if you want both of them."

She huffs as she walks from the closet. She needs to get her things set up before the work week begins. She hates when she can't find what she's looking for.

"Liv", he calls again from the living room.

 _"Coming"_ , rolling her eyes as she walks toward the living room. She stops in her tracks when she sees his big smile and the painting.

"Oh my god. Oh, Fitz", bringing her hand to her mouth.

"It's a house-warming gift for you." He's beaming.

"Fitz ..."

"I wanted you to have something that would make you feel at home - like this is your home too."

"Fitz ..." Tears are now streaming down her face.

"I know how much you loved it so I went back the next day and bought it for you. Needless to say the woman wasn't too happy to see me at first."

"You bought this _after our_ _first date_?"

He's nodding his head and giving her that goofy grin she loves so much.

"I told you, Livvie. I always knew we were going to be together."

She jumps into his arms and covers his face with wet, sloppy kisses.

"I love you, Fitz."

The words just slipped out. She hadn't planned on saying them. She freezes, looking at him in surprise, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Say it again." He's wearing the biggest smile ever, holding her tighter.

"I love you, Fitz." Now she's wearing a big smile too.

"And again."

"Nooo." She's laughing, pulling away from him.

"Say it again or ..."

"No, Fitz. No tickling."

"Then say it."

She attempts to run but he catches her by the arm and pulls her in for a kiss. They're getting lost in the moment when the doorbell rings.

"Don't. You. Move. I'm not done with you." He's red-faced from laughing so hard and his hair is wild from her hands roaming through his curls.

"Yes, sir", she giggles while saluting him.  
 **  
XXX**

"Cyrus, what are you doing here?" Still grinning from their frolicking.

Cyrus is stunned by the sight standing before him; Dr. Grant with tousled hair, looking carefree, and seemingly in the middle of a laugh fest.

"Is this not a good time, Fitzgerald?" Cyrus looks at the man questioningly.

"It's fine. Please come in." Fitz steps aside, allowing the man to enter the apartment.  
Olivia runs a hand through her hair, trying to look presentable for Chief Beene. Cyrus glances around the room at all of the moving boxes and wonders what's going on.

"Are you moving, Fitzgerald? I thought you loved this place."

"Not at all, Cyrus. These boxes belong to my girlfriend, Olivia. She's moving in", he announces proudly.

Cyrus is shocked by the revelation and tries to maintain his composure. He had no idea things had gotten this serious with them.

"You can meet her now", guiding Cyrus into the living room where Olivia is now sitting up straight on the sofa.

Fitz walks over to Olivia, pulls her up by the hand from the sofa, and pecks her on the lips.

"I'll finish with you later, missy", he whispers into her ear then turns back to Cyrus. "Liv, this is Cyrus Beene, chief of neurology. Cyrus, this is Olivia."

Olivia extends her hand to Cyrus and he shakes it unenthusiastically.

"It's good to meet you, Olivia. I'm sorry to interrupt your evening", glancing around the room.

"Not at all. We were just taking a break anyway", giving Fitz a furtive glance. "Can I get you something to drink, Chief Beene?"

"No - nothing, thank you. I won't be staying. I just wanted to discuss a matter with Fitzgerald."

"Well, I'll leave the two of you alone while I finish putting away my things."

Cyrus bristles.

"It was nice to meet you Chief Beene."

"You too, Olivia", he says tightly.

"So Cyrus, what case do you want to discuss?" He looks at the man curiously.

Cyrus waves the manila folder he's been holding tightly in his hand before responding.

"The Darwin twins. Their surgery is scheduled for next week. I just wanted to go over a few things with you."

Fitz finds it quite odd that Cyrus has shown up at his home unannounced and wants to discuss the case of the conjoined twins the surgical team has been planning for weeks. Cyrus rarely gets involved in the surgical cases.

"Since you have company, Fitzgerald -"

"Olivia lives here, Cyrus. She's not company", quickly correcting the man.

"Of course. Of course. Well we can discuss this at another time. I won't interrupt your evening any further."

Fitz gives the man a curious look again before walking him to the door.

"Good night, Cyrus."

"Good night, Fitzgerald."

Olivia comes back into the living room where she sees Fitz shaking his head, seemingly in deep thought.

"Is everything all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"Everything's fine, babe. It's just unusual for Cyrus to stop by without calling." He shakes his head again, then looks at her lecherously. "Now, where were we?"

Olivia laughs hysterically as she slowly backs away from him, resuming their cat and mouse game.

Cyrus is fuming as he stands in the hall outside of Fitz' apartment. Scowling, he grips the folder containing the investigator's report on Olivia Pope. _Fitzgerald needs to know the kind of woman he's gotten involved with._

 **November**

Fitz and Olivia leave the movie theater in downtown Phoenix after watching the romantic comedy she insisted they see because it is all the rave and it was her turn to select the movie for their date night. He hates those kinds of movies, chick flicks as he likes to call them, where the guy is always chasing/stalking the girl until she lets him catch her.

They walk hand in hand down Jackson Street discussing the movie plot, or like thereof, as they approach what has become one of their favorite eateries.

"Gelato?"

"Yes, yes, yes", she says excitedly.

It's a beautiful night and it seems like everyone in Phoenix had the same idea, to enjoy the cool evening and eat gelato. They walk into what has become their favorite Gelateria, which is fairly crowded. Olivia spots an open table in the middle of the shop and hurries to claim it while Fitz gets in line to place their order. A handsome young man approaches her shortly after she sits down at the table.

"Hello", he says, smiling at her kindly.

She looks up and returns the greeting.

"I was watching you from across the room and was wondering why such a beautiful woman is out alone on a Saturday night."

Before she can respond she hears that familiar voice.

 _"She's not alone",_ Fitz says gruffly, glaring at the man while handing Olivia her cherry gelato.

"I see. I get it. Okay, no harm, man." The man looks between the two and backs away.

"Was he bothering you?" Obviously annoyed by the attention the man was giving Olivia.

"Fitz, don't start."

"Did you tell that _asshole_ not to start when he tried to pick you while I was getting our gelato?"

"Honestly, I really didn't get a chance to say anything before you walked up", she says calmly.

She loves him but he can be so irascible at times. She doesn't want to argue tonight so she scoops some of the creamy delight from the cup, slips the spoon into her mouth, and closes her eyes as the cream hits her tongue and slides down her throat. She licks her lips and moans as her taste buds awaken from the cherry-flavored dessert.

He thinks she looks absolutely beautiful as she licks her lips with her eyes closed and he wants her to be his forever. He doesn't want strange men trying to pick her up when they think she is out alone, although he can't blame them. He wants the world to know she is taken, that she is his. He wants to put an end to the fractured lifestyle they are living. He wants them to stop living in two different apartments and losing their personal items because they are scattered between both places. Olivia scoops more gelato with the plastic spoon and raises it to her mouth.

"Marry me", he says quickly.

He wasn't planning to do it like this, to propose to her while sitting in the middle of a tiny and crowded Gelateria. He's been wracking his brain for months, since New York actually, to come up with a romantic and original way to pop the question. But in this moment he couldn't think of anything more romantic than asking her to be his as he enjoys watching her savor the gelato. He holds his breath.

 _"What?"_ Her mouth is wide open and her hand holds the spoonful of gelato mid-air.

"I didn't plan on doing it this way, Liv - to ask you this way - but the time just feels right. I love you and I want us to be together, forever", he says anxiously.

Her mouth is still agape, her eyes are wide, and the creamy, red delight has begun to drip from the white plastic spoon onto the white, hardwood table.

"Say something, Liv. Will you - marry me?" He asks tenderly with so much love in his voice.

She finally regains her senses and sets the plastic spoon into her cup of gelato.

"Fitz, does this have anything to do with that guy who was just over here?"

"Liv, I've been in love with you since, well forever. I didn't know where our relationship would go, but you have always been my endgame. You saw _The Plan_." He smiles as he recalls the incident.

She rolls her eyes when she thinks about the stupid _Plan_. He reaches across the table and caresses her hand.

"I want us to be together, as much as humanly possible. I want to stop the insanity of us living between two apartments. I want the world to know that we belong to each other – that I belong to you and you belong to me."

"Fitz ..." She says softly and the tears begin to roll down her face.

He stands from his seat and gets down on one knee in front of her, in the middle of the tiny, crowded shop. He takes her hand into his and repeats his proposal, looking hopeful into her tear-filled eyes.

"Olivia, Livvie. Will you do me the honor of marrying me - of becoming my wife?"

The floodgates are wide open and she is crying a river of happy tears. She wraps her arms around his neck and shakes her head vigorously.

"Yes. Yes. I'll marry you. I'll be your wife."

The patrons in the shop cheer as they watch her acceptance of his marriage proposal unfold. He smiles widely and leans in for a kiss. She holds up a hand halting his movement and he looks confused.

"Not so fast, cowboy. Where's my ring?" She laughs out loud at the look on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: ***WARNING***** Parts of this chapter contain some racial slurs and innuendo. There is also some violence depicted. If these scenes offend your sensibilities please skip. Never want to offend. Enjoying the reviews. Here we go!

 **Chapter 7. My Family, My Family**

 **Present Day Wisconsin**

"Olivia, I am so sorry to hear about Ella. It's devastating to lose a child, especially so young", Anneke Grant says empathetically.

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant", Olivia says with sorrow, looking down at her plate.

Fitz kisses her hand again and Olivia smiles at him wistfully.

"Are you okay, babe?" Fitz asks with concern and love in his voice. Although it has been over a year since Ella died, he knows how painful the death of her goddaughter continues to be for her.

"I'm fine", she smiles at him weakly, then pecks him on the lips.

Although Fitz has always been kind and considerate of the feelings of others, Tristan is intrigued by the level of intimacy he shares with Olivia. As he eyes the couple, Tristan glides his tongue across his lips and shifts slightly in his chair as he watches Olivia's full lips connect with his brother's thinner lips.

"Mrs. Grant, Fitz and I have presents for everyone. You can open them whenever you like."

"That's so thoughtful of you, Olivia. I know my son did not do any of the shopping", she smiles politely.

"I did", Fitz pipes up. "Livvie dragged me all over Phoenix for days shopping for Christmas presents."

"And you loved every minute of it, babe."

"I did", pecking her on the cheek.

Gerry rolls his eyes discreetly. His son and fiancée's display of affection at the dinner table is unsettling to him.

After dinner the family retreats to the parlor for drinks and to open their presents. The room is beautifully decorated for the season. The 20-foot-tall Christmas tree stands gracefully in the corner to the right of the massive fireplace. The white lights twinkle brightly against the brass and crystal ornaments that have been hung meticulously on the branches. The tree is topped with a lighted praying angel dressed in an antique white gown. Fresh green garland is draped across the fireplace where two vintage lanterns filled with pine cones, candles, and greens sit at either end of the mantle. The scent of cinnamon wafts through the air as holiday music plays softly in the background. The men make their way to the bar to replenish their tumblers with the family drink while Olivia sits on the sofa, not daring another glass of wine because she is exhausted. Mrs. Grant sits in the occasional chair adjacent to the sofa.

"This is an absolutely beautiful room, Mrs. Grant. The decorations are breathtaking. Frankly, the entire house is beautifully designed. I love all of the architectural elements."

"Thank you, dear. That means a lot coming from an architect. However, every year I have to cajole my husband and Tristan to chop down a tree for Christmas. I'm sorry to say that each year they seem to grow less and less enthusiastic about doing it."

"Fitz says it's tradition for everyone to open one present on Christmas Eve."

"Yes it is. When Fitzgerald and Tristan were little boys they were always too anxious to wait for Christmas Day to open their presents. So Gerry and I would allow them each to open one present. It was the only way we could get them to go to bed. Over time it just became a family tradition."

"Unfortunately, my parents didn't have that tradition. I always had to wait until Christmas morning to open my presents, but I like the tradition. Maybe we will continue it with our family", she looks across the room and smiles at Fitz.

Anneke Grant touches the pearls around her neck.

"Well let's not break tradition", Tristan says. "Let's open our presents."

After each person has opened one gift the conversation shifts subtly to the engagement.

"Olivia dear, your ring is absolutely beautiful. My son has excellent taste."

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant", smiling demurely.

"He does have good taste", Tristan chimes in, looking at Olivia as he swirls the ice in his drink. "That ring looks like it set you back a pretty penny, brother", Tristan says as he leans against the fireplace, the perfect position to surveil the scene unfolding in the room.

" _Tristan!_ Don't be crude", his mother admonishes.

Gerry walks from the bar to his oversized leather chair with another tumbler of scotch. He sits and crosses his long legs and Olivia smiles, wondering if Fitz picked up the habit of crossing his legs from his father.

"Fitz just gave it to me last week, actually. He didn't have a ring when he proposed last month in the Gelateria." Remembering the day, she smiles again at her fiancé.

"I told you, babe, I hadn't planned on doing it that way", walking from the bar with a drink in his hand and sitting on the sofa next to Olivia. "But the time just felt right." He lifts her left hand and kisses the ring. "I love you more than anything, Livvie."

Across the room Gerry scrutinizes the couple from his chair and takes another long sip of scotch.

"I love you too, baby", pecking his lips when a yawn escapes her mouth.

"Somebody's tired", Fitz says, smiling at his fiancée.

"I'm sorry", looking around the room with her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress another yawn. "It's been a long day. If you all don't mind I think I'll go up to bed now."

"Of course, Olivia. It has been a long day, dear", Anneke chimes in. "We will see you in the morning for Christmas breakfast."

"I'll come up with you", Fitz says, springing quickly to his feet.

Gerry rolls his eyes again. His overly attentive son has begun to grate on his nerves.

"That's not necessary, babe. Stay down here and visit with your family."

"Actually", says Gerry. "I wanted to discuss a few things with you, Fitzgerald. You don't mind, do you Olivia?"

"Not at all. I'm sure you have lots to catch up on."

Fitz walks Olivia to the foyer, envelops her in his arms, and gives her a long, deep kiss in front of the grand staircase, which is nothing short of stunning. It is truly the centerpiece of the home and an example of creative workmanship. Whoever designed it really wanted to make an impression on anyone entering the home. The curved, solid oak handrails are supported by a series of ornately decorated wrought iron balusters. The arched staircase descends to the center of the two-story foyer and ascends to the upper landing that leads to the six bedrooms.

"Fitz, this is one of the biggest staircases I've ever seen in a home. It's absolutely beautiful. It's such a unique design."

"It is pretty amazing. My father designed it when he had the house built. He wanted the house to have a _grand_ appearance and be a unique expression of the old world style of Sweden. He worked with local metal smiths to fabricate the wrought iron panels."

"Well, it certainly gives the house a grand appearance. I'll have to talk with him about the design before we leave next week. I might have to borrow his ideas for one of my projects", she winks at him.

"I'm sure he would love to talk to my architect fiancée`about the design of this house. The staircase is his pride and joy."

"I can see why, but I would get tired of climbing these steep stairs every day, Fitz. Like right now I am so tired I don't know how long it'll take me to get to the top landing", she smiles, looking up the stairs.

"I can carry you", he smirks.

"No you won't. I've seen the number of scotches you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to end up at the bottom of this beautiful staircase", not bothering to stifle another yawn.

They kiss again before she makes the long trek up the grand staircase.

"I won't be too long, okay?"

"Take your time, babe. I'm going to take a hot shower and go straight to bed."

Olivia climbs the long, steep staircase to Fitz' bedroom. She looks around the room and smiles, thinking this is the room in which a young Fitzgerald spent a lot of time. She wonders how many girls he sneaked into his bedroom. She'll have to ask him, or maybe she'll ask Tristan tomorrow. He might be in a giving mood since it will be Christmas she thinks, smiling to herself.

This is a beautiful house but it's also a drafty house Olivia shakes her head as she digs through her suitcase to find something warm to sleep in. She finds one of Fitz' long-sleeved Harvard tee shirts and walks into the bathroom to shower. After a hot shower she dries off quickly and pulls on the tee shirt that stops just above her knees. She yawns again and wonders how long Fitz is going to be downstairs as she walks into the bedroom drying her hair with one of the plush, white towels. She gasps when she sees Tristan standing inside the doorway, looking like Fitz but not looking like Fitz.

"Tristan, you startled me", grabbing her chest. "Is everything all right? Is Fitz all right?"

"Everything is fine, Livvie", he says, sneering at her.

Olivia's antennae go up because Fitz is the only person who ever calls her Livvie.

"You should go, Tristan", she says guardedly.

"My big brother sure knows how to pick you girls", he says with a slight slur.

"You're drunk and you should go", Olivia says more forcefully this time while reaching for her robe which is thrown across the chair.

"You're one of the beautiful ones though, Livvie", closing the door and walking into the room.

"Fitz will be up here soon", she says nervously.

"No he won't. He's downstairs drinking and smoking cigars with that asshole father of ours. They're talking about you, Livvie - you know that? You know they don't like you. You know they're just pretending and Fitz is too damn stupid to see it. Father always says women like you are only good for fucking. We don't marry people like you."

"Get the _fuck_ out of here, Tristan."

"I'm not leaving until you give me what you gave my big brother earlier. I saw how you wrapped those beautiful lips around his dick and made him cum. You're going make me cum like that too, Livvie."

Olivia's eyes dart around the room looking for a weapon, anything she can use to fend off this animal. Tristan walks toward her with lust in his eyes and Olivia begins yelling for Fitz.

"He can't hear you, Livvie. This old barn has walls thicker than Fort Knox."

Olivia runs toward the bathroom and Tristan is on her in two long strides. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, trying to kiss her.

"Kiss me", he growls. "You kiss that fucking asshole brother of mine. You let him paw you at the dinner table like the whore you are."

Olivia slaps him hard across the face, which only angers him.

" _You black bitch. You think you're too good for me? You don't think I'm as good as the golden boy? I'll show you."_

Tristan slaps Olivia hard and she falls to the floor. He lunges on top of her and starts to rip off his brother's Harvard tee shirt. Olivia kicks and punches Tristan, trying to get away from him.

" _Fitz! Fitz! Somebody help me"_ , she screams as she digs her fingernails into his face.

" _You fucking bitch. You're gonna pay for this like Sabrina."_

He wraps his strong hand around her throat and pushes down his pants, revealing his flaccid dick.

" _You're gonna suck me the way you sucked that stupid ass brother of mine."_

Olivia spits in his face and screams at the top of her lungs for Fitz to help her.

 **XXX**

As a father Gerry Grant wants the best for his son and in his mind Olivia Pope is not the best for Fitzgerald. However, as a man he admires his son's courage and can appreciate why he is so enamored with the woman. After all, she's beautiful, smart, and seems to love Fitzgerald as much as he loves her. Hell, he has had his share of exotic women in his lifetime but he always knew where to draw the line. Fitzgerald, however, never knew the boundaries which has always gotten him into trouble.

Fitz stands in front of the fireplace watching the embers dance inside of the fire box. He's feeling on top of the world tonight. He hasn't been home for the holidays in years so he's ecstatic that his first return home is with his fiancée. He takes a sip of his drink.

"Fitzgerald, how long has this been going on with you and Olivia?" His father asks.

Fitz turns to look at his parents and begins to speak.

"We've been together for over a year now, father", smiling brightly.

"And why is this the first we're hearing about her? Why do we find out on Christmas Eve that you're engaged, Fitzgerald?" He mother queries.

"This past year has been a whirlwind for us, mother. I must admit we've had some ups and downs but I always knew we were meant to be together. While I hadn't planned to propose when I did, I knew it would happen", speaking from his heart. "I'm in love her mother."

Gerry listens intently to his son speak passionately about his love for Olivia. He shakes his head in disdain. He doesn't plan on going through this shit again with Fitzgerald.

"Fitzgerald …" His father begins, standing from his leather chair, holding a half-empty glass of scotch. "You can date her _back_ in Phoenix, but marry her - never. I won't have it. We won't have it." Gerry booms.

Fitz' eyes widen. He's shocked by his father's declaration.

"She's beautiful, Fitzgerald", his mother begins, standing from her seat as well and walking toward her son. "Some of them actually are. I can see why you might be _attracted_ to her."

" _What?"_ Fitz eyes his mother and father carefully, not quite sure of what he is hearing.

"Fitzgerald –"

" _What the hell is going on here?"_ He demands angrily, not liking what he is hearing.

"She's not the right woman for you, Fitzgerald", his father booms again.

Tempers begin to rise and the raised voices drown out the holiday music.

"Who are you people?" Fitz looks between his parents. "I don't know either of you right now. When did you develop these racist sentiments and how can you justify them?"

 _"We are not racists"_ , his mother protests vehemently. "We have supported many of _their_ causes for civil rights. Every year we donate to the NAACP. We are _Christians_ , Fitzgerald. We have always helped the less fortunate. It's the Christian thing to do. _But that doesn't mean we have to socialize with them, and God forbid, marry them!_ "

Gerry nods in agreement and takes another sip from his tumbler.

"Oh my god, mother! Just because you donate to the NAACP doesn't mean you're not a racist, a bigot. _"I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ."_ Fitz says, shaking his head.

"Excuse me?" Gerry growls.

"Gandhi", Fitz says, glaring at his father. "It's about the disparity between Christ's teachings and his so-called followers. I think the quote applies to you and mother." He shakes his head again and stares down at the floor. This is all so unexpected.

 _"You will not talk to your mother like that. I told you, Anneke, it was a mistake letting him go to that damn liberal East Coast school after he - "_

" _Gerry!"_

" _But you always indulged his every whim. Ever since he was a goddamn kid you entertained his fanciful ideas."_

 _"So are you saying this is all my fault?"_

 _"Damn right it is. We'll be the laughing stock of the whole damn town. Our son, the brilliant surgeon marries a goddamn –"_

 _"Don't you fucking say it, father."_ Fitz says slowly with venom in his voice. _If you say it I will knock your goddamn teeth down your fucking throat."_

Fitz balls his fists and glares at his father, daring him to say the unacceptable. For the first time ever, Gerry Grant is afraid of his son.

"Fitzgerald, son", his mother intervenes, trying to diffuse the situation. "There's no need for violence."

Fitz turns his back to his parents and takes another long sip of his scotch. How could he not know this about his own parents? He shakes his head in disbelief. Everything is falling apart.

"Son, I'll try to be delicate", his mother says slowly, clasping her hands in front of her chest. "Is it – well is it about the - sex? I've heard -"

 _"Mother!_ _You will not talk about Olivia in that manner"_ , he shouts.

His mother's mouth flies open, shocked by the tone her Fitzgerald is using with her.

"Mother", he says more softly, closing his eyes, trying to get ahold of his emotions. "I love her. Can't you understand that? I love her more than I ever imagined I could ever love another human being. She is everything to me. Please don't do this. Don't try to reduce what we have to just sex."

"Have you ever thought she could be after your money? After all, you are a renowned surgeon", his father posits.

This only gets fucking worse, Fitz thinks.

"Mother, father, I am a grown man and will make my own decisions. I'm going to marry Olivia and if God is willing I hope to have many children with her one day."

His mother gasps.

 _"Fitzgerald!_ Now I know you have gone mad. Our family has been _pure_ since our great-, great-grandparents settled here in 1865. We'll have no more talk of _babies_!"

"Yes mother, I am mad. I have fallen madly in love with Olivia Pope and there isn't anything you or father can do about it. Hell, there isn't anything I can do about. I couldn't stop loving her even if I tried."

"Why can't you ever find an appropriate girl? I'm sure there are plenty of fine women in Phoenix", Gerry interjects. "What is it about you and these …?" He shakes his head and walks over to the bar and pours another drink.

"She is the appropriate woman for me, father", Fitz says sadly, resting his arms on top of the fireplace mantle and staring down at the floor, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. He feels immense sadness as he wonders how he's going to explain all of this to Olivia.

"Mother, father I cannot stay here knowing how you feel about Olivia – the woman I am going to marry. We will be leaving your home in the morning."

"There's no need to be rash, son. This is your home too, Fitzgerald. We can all _pretend_ to be polite for a few more days."

"That's just it, father, I don't want you to pretend. I want you to love Olivia because I love her - because she makes me happy – happier than I can ever remember being in my entire life. I don't want your false politeness. Olivia deserves better than that."

"You talk some sense into him, Gerry", Anneke says in a huff as she walks from the parlor. "I'm going to bed. All of this talk has given me a headache."

 **XXX**

Anneke climbs the grand staircase and walks toward her bedroom when she hears screams coming from Fitzgerald's bedroom.

 _"Fitz! Fitz!"_ Olivia screams.

Anneke pushes open the bedroom door and is horrified when she sees her younger son with his hand around Olivia's throat and tearing at her clothes.

" _Get off of her!"_ his mother runs into the room screaming.

" _Get out of here, mother! She's gonna give me what she gives Fitz."_

" _I said get off of her"_ , beating on her son's back with her small fists.

" _Why do you care what happens to her? You don't even like this black bitch."_

Anneke runs from the bedroom, to the top of the grand staircase, and yells for her son and husband.

 _"Fitzgerald! Gerry! He's gonna kill her!"_

Fitz' eyes grow wide and his heart sinks to his stomach as the tumbler slips from his hand, crashing to the hardwood floor. He runs from the parlor and up the staircase, two steps at a time.

 _"Somebody help her!"_ Anneke screams again.

Fitz and Gerry reach the top of the grand staircase where Anneke is gasping for breath.

 _"My god, he's going to kill her"_ , she screams, pointing to the bedroom.

Fitz and Gerry rush into the bedroom where they see Tristan holding his penis and choking a half-naked Olivia on the floor.

" _You son-of-a-bitch"_ , Fitz growls, running over and pulling his brother off of his fiancée. He grabs Tristan by the collar and throws him against the wall, pummeling his face until blood spurts from his mouth and nose. Tristan slumps to the floor and Fitz stomps and kicks his brother over and over and over.

" _Stop it! Stop it!"_ their mother screams. _"You're going to kill him."_

"He deserves to fucking die", Fitz snarls as he continues to stomp and kick his brother.

"Go take care of Olivia", Gerry growls, pulling Fitz off of Tristan. "I'll handle this."

Anneke grabs the comforter from the bed and covers Olivia as she lay on the floor trembling and gasping for air. Gerry unbuckles his belt and slides it from his pants loops and begins to beat Tristan. He brings the thick leather belt down onto his son's back over and over and the young man hollers like a wounded animal.

" _You disrespect this house again?"_

And the thick leather belt lashes onto Tristan's back again.

" _You do this ungodly thing in our home?"_

The blood-coated belt comes down again onto Tristan's back.

" _I should have put this dog down years ago"_ , Gerry snarls, looking over at his wife. And the final lash tears through Tristan's shirt and his blood splatters onto the walls.

" _Father, please. This is all Fitz' fault. You know he never should have brought her here."_

Gerry grabs Tristan from the floor and throws him into the hall.

" _I want your no-good ass out of this house tonight. Now git!"_

A beaten and battered Tristan runs down the long staircase and out of the front door into the frigid Wisconsin night.

"Olivia, baby. Talk to me, baby", Fitz implores cradling Olivia's head in his arm.

"I called for you, Fitz. I screamed. I did", she says disoriented.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry", he says with tears streaming down his face.

"Why, Fitz? Why would he ...?" She asks hoarsely.

"Get her onto the bed, Fitzgerald", his mother urges him.

Fitz carries Olivia to the bed, puts her under the blanket, and lays next to her stroking her face. His mother walks quickly from the bathroom with a cold compress and places it onto Olivia's forehead. She gasps when she sees Tristan's fingerprints around the young woman's neck.

"Olivia, dear", Anneke starts. "I am so sorry. I don't know why Tristan would do such a thing."

"Fitz, get me out of here. Get me out of this house now", Olivia says weakly.

He nods.

"You don't have to leave -" his mother starts.

 _"Enough, mother! Please leave while I get Olivia dressed"_ , his hands shake violently.

"Where are you going?" His mother asks carefully.

"I have to get Olivia to the hospital", Fitz says half to himself, shaking his head.

"What are you going to tell them?" His mother asks anxiously.

"The truth."

 **XXX**

Fitz carries Olivia down the grand staircase and out to their rental car. He turns on the car to warm it and locks the doors before going back into the house to gather their belongings.

"Fitzgerald, where are you going? Don't leave tonight", his father pleads.

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you think I would let Olivia stay here after what just happened? After knowing how you feel about her?"

"Tristan is gone. He won't be back", his mother protests.

"And neither will I."

"You're going to turn your back on your family for _that_ woman?" his father yells.

"You should expect a visit from the police", Fitz says as he storms out of the house.

 **XXX**

Fitz rushes into the emergency room carrying Olivia in his arms. She hasn't said a word since they left the house and he is a nervous wreck. For a man who has operated on the brains of thousands of children he feels completely inadequate.

"Patient experiencing acute shock, STAT", he yells as he hurries into the emergency room.

The emergency room staff jump quickly into action, placing Olivia onto a gurney and wheeling her to the back to be examined.

"Sir, are you a doctor?" Dr. Fabrice, the emergency room doctor on call asks. He's not sure what he is dealing with as he eyes Fitz' blood-covered clothes. He doesn't know if this is a domestic violence case or something else.

"Yes. Dr. Grant. Neurosurgeon. Phoenix Children's Hospital." He says quickly, running a hand through his hair.

Fitz knows the protocol. He knows he has to give the intake staff an accounting of what happened to Olivia.

"We'll have to call the police, Dr. Grant. And we'll get you some ice for your hand and a set of scrubs to change into", Dr. Fabrice says before walking to the back to examine Olivia.

Fitz changes into the scrubs and tosses his bloody clothes into the trash bin in the hall outside of Olivia's room. Olivia has been admitted for overnight observation because she is still in shock. He sits in Olivia's hospital room, in the dark, shaking his head as he watches her sleep. He cannot believe what has happened because none of it makes any sense. It all feels like a bad dream. How could Tristan do this? How can he explain it to Olivia when he doesn't even understand it himself? He doesn't know who his family is any more.

"Fitz", Olivia calls out softly.

"Livvie." He rushes over to the bed and kisses her lightly on the forehead. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

"I want to go home, Fitz", she says weakly.

"We'll be back home tomorrow. You need to stay here overnight, okay?" He looks into her frightened eyes and tears well up in his eyes.

She nods and turns away from him. After a few moments she speaks again.

"Why would you take me to that house, Fitz?"

He walks around the bed to look into her eyes.

"I didn't know, Liv. I swear, I didn't know."

"How could you not know?" She closes her eyes and the tears roll down her face. "Please leave."

"Livvie ..."

 **XXX**

It's Christmas Day and surprisingly the airports are fairly busy as they walk in silence through Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport to retrieve his car. In the underground parking garage Fitz sits in the driver's seat for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next.

"Take me home Fitz - to my apartment", she says quietly, looking straight ahead. She can no longer bear looking at his face.

His body tenses and he grips the steering wheel tightly. She hasn't stayed at her apartment in weeks. He's grown used to sleeping with her at night and waking up with her in the morning to start their day.

"How can I make this better, Liv? Tell me what to do and I'll do it." The tears roll down her face again.

"I screamed, Fitz. I called for you."

"I'm so sorry", he says softly, looking down at his hands. The shame and anger are building in him.

"I was so scared, Fitz and you weren't there. He wanted to kill me. The hate in his eyes - I'll never forget his eyes. When I look into your eyes all I see is him."

 _"Damn it!"_ He yells, banging his fist on the steering wheel.

They drive to her apartment in silence.

 **XXX**

"Can I call you later?" He asks sadly, standing outside of her door.

"Not tonight. I - I just need some time alone to think", she says softly.

He nods and leans in to kiss her on the cheek and she recoils, and his heart shatters into a thousand little pieces. After she slips into her apartment Fitz leans his head against the door frame and lets the tears fall. The old woman across the hall looks through her peephole and shakes her head.

 **XXX**

Fitz sits in his office at Phoenix Children's Hospital reviewing charts for upcoming surgeries in the New Year. Since their vacation was cut short and he hasn't heard from Olivia, he's trying to distract himself from thinking about her every minute of the day. It's been almost a week since they returned from Wisconsin and she hasn't contacted him nor has she responded to his phone calls or text messages. He's getting anxious because he doesn't know where they stand. He doesn't know what she's thinking. He prays he hasn't lost her.

Fitz goes to the dojang to spar a few rounds with his trainer to release his anger and tension. After suiting up in the locker room he walks over to the area where Mike, his trainer, is standing.

"I was surprised to hear from you today, Fitz. I haven't seen you around here in a while. That can only mean one of two things, either work or a woman has been keeping you away from this place. I bet it's a woman, right?" Mike smiles knowingly.

"Let's just get to it, Mike", not feeling like small talk today.

Trouble in paradise, Mike thinks to himself.

As Fitz begins to spar with Mike, his brother's face flashes in his mind and he takes his anger and frustration out on Mike, kicking Mike until he falls to the floor. He kicks and kicks Mike until Big Jim, the grandmaster, runs over and stops him.

"Easy tiger", Big Jim says, pulling Fitz off of Mike.

Mike looks at Fitz in horror.

"Mike, I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean ..."

Mike nods.

"Hit the shower, Fitz", Big Jim commands.

 _"Shit"_ , Fitz yells in the locker room, punching his locker with his wrapped hands.

 **XXX**

It's a new year but Olivia doesn't feel like anything has changed since she returned from Wisconsin. She hasn't seen or talked to Fitz since the night he brought her home, and that has been over a week. They didn't even spend New Year's Eve together, although he left her a message expressing his love. He didn't think saying Happy New Year was appropriate under the circumstances.

Olivia is tired of staying holed up in her apartment thinking about what happened at Fitz' parents' home so she decides to go for a run in the park. She needs some fresh air to clear her head. For the past week all she's done is cry. Tristan scared her and hurt her physically. She hopes the police catch his ass soon. But she is also hurt emotionally because of the ugly things he said to her and what she learned about Fitz' parents' beliefs about race - about her. And she no longer knows how she feels about Fitz. Can he be like the rest of his family? After all, they were a family unit with shared values and beliefs. Olivia runs until her chest burns, until she can no longer outrun her thoughts so she heads back home.

"Psst", Mrs. Teller beckons her over. Olivia rolls her eyes. She really isn't in the mood for Mrs. Teller's nosiness today.

"Hello, Mrs. Teller. I'm sorry I don't have time to talk this afternoon. I have a lot to do."

"No you don't, so come on over here and talk to me for a minute."

Olivia rolls her eyes again and walks over to the old woman. Her parents taught her to always respect her elders, but Mrs. Teller is testing this rule today.

"I saw that you came back early from your Christmas vacation, Olivia."

"Is there something you need, Mrs. Teller?" Not interested in discussing the matter with the woman.

"Where's that handsome boyfriend of yours, or should I say fiancé? Don't look surprised, Olivia. I know _everything_ that goes on in this building. I haven't seen him around here lately."

"Is there something else you want Mrs. Teller because I don't want to discuss my personal life."

"He's a good one, Olivia. Don't let him get away."

"Have a good day, Mrs. Teller." Olivia turns to walk to her apartment.

"He was just here. You missed him by 10 minutes. He's looking just as sad as you are. He pushed a note under your door, too. You better read it", she yells as Olivia unlocks her apartment door.

When Olivia opens her door she sees the envelope on the floor with Fitz' unmistakable scrawl on the front. She picks up the envelope and turns and looks at Mrs. Teller. The old woman gives her an I-told-you-so look, pulls her shawl tightly around her shoulders, and then closes her door.

Olivia wonders how the woman who never seems to leave her apartment knows everything that goes on in the building. She sets the envelope on the coffee table and takes a long, hot shower. After a relaxing shower she walks into the kitchen and pours a glass of wine and walks back into the living room with the glass and wine bottle. She sits on the sofa staring at Fitz' handwriting on the envelope then pours herself another glass of wine. She reads the letter on her third glass and the tears begin to flow so she reaches for her phone.

"Fitz, we need to talk."


	8. Chapter 8 Sabrina

**A/N:** **Caution** This chapter contains a couple instances of a racially derogatory term. No more after this chapter.

The response to the last chapter was incredible, such a wide range of interesting perspectives and I enjoyed reading them all. ScandalBayouBeauty, I'm taking creative license. Reader575, Justbecauseican43, and AmandaJ, you're all on the right track about the parents. YELLOW JESUS, sorry about the belt. Cleo, you crack me up.

This chapter is far from light-hearted, but it will be enlightening. This was the most difficult chapter for me to write. How does the author get choked up about their own creation? Hmm. Here we go!

 **Chapter 8.** **Sabrina**

Fitz stands outside of Olivia's door and raises his hand to ring the bell when the old woman across the hall calls him over.

"Psst."

He turns and smiles weakly at his ally.

"I see the note worked", Mrs. Teller winks and nods at Fitz.

"Thank you for the stationery." Fitz gives the old woman another slight smile then rings Olivia's doorbell and Mrs. Teller slowly closes her door.

 **XXX**

"Thank you for coming", Olivia says, walking across the room, near the window, to maintain a safe distance from him.

"Anytime", he says solemnly, glancing around the room. He misses coming here, spending time with her here. "How are you?"He asks, genuinely concerned because he hasn't seen or talked to her in over a week.

For the past week Olivia has been grappling with the conflicting emotions swirling around in her head. To say she is confused about everything that has happened would be an understatement. She now questions everything she thought she knew about her fiancé. Every day, all day she vacillates between loving the man she has known for the past year and wondering if she can trust him. She loves him but she is no longer certain of his honesty. She loves him but she doesn't know if she can be vulnerable with him again. She's been going back and forth weighing the risk of loving him with her unshakeable need to protect herself from more emotional pain.

"I've been in regular contact with the Waukesha police", he says sadly. "They haven't found him yet", eyeing her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction.

A chill runs down her spine at the mention of her attacker. She turns her back to him, wraps her arms protectively around her body, and looks out the window. She has bottled her emotions since returning from Wisconsin, not wanting to succumb to the pain, but she's furious and needs to vent her anger and he has to be the recipient.

"I am so angry with you, Fitz. But it seems like I'm often angry with you about one thing or another", she chuckles to herself humorlessly. Tears roll down her face as she stares out the window watching the sun begin to set. "I am angry that you exposed me to your family. I am angry with you because he attacked me – wanted to kill me. I am angry because I was demeaned and humiliated again." She turns and glares at him and his heart breaks again. "I am angry with you because you didn't protect me. And I am angry with you because I now question my judgment about everything."

He stands before her as she unleashes her anger and he takes it because he owes it to her. He takes it because he deserves it. He takes it because he didn't protect her. He takes it because he loves her.

"Liv –"

" _No! Let me finish"_ , she shouts as the tears flow down her face. " _And now I don't know what to believe any more. I don't know who you are any more. I can't believe you didn't know, Fitz. No, I don't believe you any more. You lived in that house for 18 years. You can't tell me you didn't know your family are racists."_

"I swear –".

"Has this ..." waving her index finger between the two of them, "been some kind of sick game you've been playing with me? Were you rebelling against your parents like a damn child by dating me?"

"You know better", he says quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 _The stress is building._

" _I don't know anything!_ I dream about him, Fitz. I stayed locked up in this apartment for over a week because I was afraid he would find me."

He walks over to her and intertwines his hand with hers.

"I'm doing my best, Liv. I'm trying to make things right", he says dejectedly. "I know he hurt you, and I am so sorry. If I could take it all back I would."

"I don't think you can make this right", she says softly, pulling her hand from his and walking across the room, near the sofa. She can't be close to him. She will lose her resolve if she stands too close to him, breathing in his scent. His heart is hammering in his chest because he knows her all too well and he is afraid of where the conversation is going. He takes a few steps toward her but she puts up a hand to halt his movements.

"Liv –"

"How can I be with a man whose family are racists?"

"I'm – "

Fitz, your family – your parents – consciously or unconsciously are nothing but common racists. And they're the worst kind, rationalizing their racism by packaging it in progressive liberalism. They praise themselves for being open-minded, unprejudiced, fighting for social justice, and championing change, but hide from it when it really counts."

He has a massive headache. His head has been throbbing for over a week and now it feels like it's going to explode. But he tries to remain calm so they can work through this.

"They are hypocrites, Fitz. They are liberal only when it comes to other people. But when it comes to practicing what they preach …" She shakes her head in disgust. "Well I guess their liberalism hadn't been tested before I rang their doorbell."

"Liv –"

" _Don't you dare, Liv me._ _And let's not talk about how devout they are._ Fitz, your family is a contradiction – schizophrenic some would say. On one hand they're committed to Christian values, while on the other hand they're committed to practices that are fundamentally _un_ Christian-like. Their flavor of Christianity makes them believe just because they're charitable and support a few causes for minorities then they're good people. But god forbid if their son wants to marry a _black_ woman."

"Have _I_ ever treated you any different, made you feel less than?" He knows that's one of her biggest fears, not feeling good enough.

"Fitz ..."

"Liv, when I look at you all I see is the most beautiful woman in the world. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. _I. Love. You._ "

A long silence fills the room and they look at each other with sadness and sorrow.

"Fitz …" She begins slowly, wringing her hands and pacing around the space. "I think you - we - would benefit from some time apart - to allow us time to think - to make sure this is what we _really_ want."

"I've always known what I wanted, Livvie", he says sadly.

"I just think you need some time to examine your _true_ beliefs -"

" _What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_ His calm is waning and he's beginning to crack.

"Fitz, you were raised in that household –"

"Don't do this, Liv. You know me. You know _everything_ about me."

"Fitz –"

 _"You're punishing me for my family's beliefs."_

"We just need some time to think. _I need time to think."_ She rubs her right temple because her head is pounding too.

"What are we supposed to do, Liv, not be together? Are we to sacrifice our love—our happiness because people don't approve of us – because of this country's _fucked_ up history? We can't fix 350 years of history, Liv. We can't fix the fact that this country enslaved black people for over 200 _goddamn_ years. We can't change 100 years of Jim Crow laws. We can't even change all the _bullshit_ that's happening today. Baby, we can only help to make a new history - together."

The air in the room is thick and heavy and it feels like a death has occurred and a pall has been placed over them. He takes another step toward her and she takes two steps back, away from him. She wraps her arms around her body and looks anywhere in the room except at him. After a moment she walks over to the door, opens it wide, and looks down at the floor, her signal for him to leave. He knows there isn't anything more he can say to change her mind so he looks at her for a long while from across the room, silently pleading with his eyes for her to stop this – not to break them apart. Finally he walks from the apartment, but stops in the hall, hesitating, trying to think of a way through this.

"Don't look back, Fitz. Please don't." If she looks into his eyes she will surely fall apart.

With bowed head he walks to the elevator. Olivia closes the door and Mrs. Teller shakes her head and closes her peephole.

 **XXX**

Fitz sits on the sofa in his apartment shocked and dazed and not quite sure how he made it home after leaving Olivia's apartment. He pinches the bridge of his nose trying to relieve the pounding headache he cannot seem to shake, and he grows increasingly angry. He's angry with his family because of their racist views. He's angry with Tristan for attacking Olivia. He's angry with himself because he never saw any of this coming. And he's angry because he doesn't know where he and Olivia now stand. She says she needs time to think but she didn't say how much time she's going to need. What the hell is he supposed to do while she's thinking?

He takes another sip from his tumbler as his well-trained, rational mind once again tries to process everything that has happened. To say he is confused and frustrated is an understatement. He thinks about his parents' reaction to his relationship with Olivia and shakes his head because none of it makes sense. That the color of Olivia's skin blinds them to her humanity and worth shocks him to his core because his parents have always claimed to be progressive liberals who are intolerant of social injustices. Hell, they demanded he and Tristan do the same. Perhaps Olivia is right. Maybe their liberalism had never been tested. He shakes his head about the ridiculousness of it all.

 **XXX**

Several weeks have passed since Olivia told Fitz she needed time to think about their relationship and he still hasn't heard from her. He's getting more anxious and Mr. Grumpy Pants has re-emerged and the staff in the Pediatric Neurological Unit are talking again. The rumor mill is speculating that Dr. Grant's heart has been broken, that his relationship has ended with the woman who stole his heart.

Cyrus Beene sits at his desk at Children's Hospital, deep in thought as he rolls the crystal cylinder back and forth across the top of his desk. The gossip about Dr. Grant's demeanor has reached his office and again he is frustrated with the younger doctor. This is exactly what Cyrus wanted to prevent. He saw the potential for this happening months ago because he knew that woman had too much control over Dr. Grant and now he needs to make sure she doesn't come back into the picture.

Cyrus unlocks his desk drawer and pulls out the manila folder containing the report his guy gave him on Olivia Pope. He re-reads the report and nods his head repeatedly, thinking this should be more than enough reason for Dr. Grant to end this so-called relationship. Cyrus grips the folder tightly in his hand and makes his way down to Dr. Grant's office.

 **XXX**

"Is he -?"

"Yes, he is Chief Beene. But …"

"What is it, Lauren?" he asks impatiently.

"Well, he's not himself today, sir."

Cyrus nods his head, gives the door two quick knocks, and walks into the office where he sees Dr. Grant standing in front of the window with both hands stuffed into his pants pockets.

"Dr. Grant?"

"Yes, Cyrus", not bothering to turn around.

"Fitzgerald, what's going? What has you in this foul mood lately?" As if he doesn't already know.

"Not today, Cyrus", he says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can't seem to shake this headache.

 _"Yes, today, Dr. Grant. We will do this today!"_

Fitz turns around and looks at an irritated Cyrus.

"Fitzgerald, I will try to be sensitive ..."

Fitz looks at Cyrus curiously, wondering what's on the old man's mind.

"Ever since you've been involved with _that_ woman you have become a different person."

Fitz bristles and squints at Cyrus.

"You're distracted and moody. One day you're up and the next day you're down."

Fitz is stunned by Cyrus' words and he doesn't know how much more he can take. He feels like his world is crumbling down around him.

"I've refrained from giving you certain information, Fitzgerald. But now I think it's appropriate to share this with you."

Cyrus throws the folder onto the desk and Fitz looks at him strangely, wondering what is in the folder.

"Open it", Cyrus demands, pointing to the folder.

Fitz walks over to his desk and opens the folder. He is shocked to see a picture of Olivia on top of the stack of papers in the folder.

" _That_ woman has been jerking you around Fitz - playing games with your head. I'm sure it's because of her background – of who she is."

 _"What the hell is this?_ Fitz snarls. The stress is building.

"I know a guy -"

 _"What? You know a guy?"_

"A guy who checks into people. He can find out anything on anyone. He's really, really good", Cyrus says quickly, rubbing his hands together and pacing around the office.

 _"You had Olivia investigated?"_ He cocks his head to the side, looking at Cyrus in disbelief.

"You should know the kind of _stock_ she comes from, Fitzgerald."

 _"You bastard. You have no right interfering in my personal life. You have no right looking into Olivia's background."_

 _"That woman is going to ruin your career. Soon you're going to start making mistakes._ _She's not the_ _right_ _kind of woman for you, Fitzgerald. Her parents, her_ _real_ _parents, are - were nothing but no-good, common_ _junkies_ _. They didn't want her so they just dumped her off in the parking lot of the nearest hospital and went on their merry way, using their drugs. She's probably just like them."_

Fitz leaps across the room and grabs the old man in the collar. Cyrus' eyes bulge and beads of sweat form quickly on his forehead.

 _"Don't. You. Ever. Speak. Of. Olivia. Like. That. Again. I will kill you!"_

Fitz glares at the frightened man then flings him across the room.

 _"Take your goddamn file and get the fuck out of my office. I know everything I need to know about the woman I love."_

Lauren looks up from her computer screen when she hears the commotion coming from Dr. Grant's office. Her eyes widen when she sees a disheveled Chief Beene scurry from the office. She eyes the older man and thinks he must've really overstepped the boundaries this time.

Fitz slams his door and paces around the office, running his hand through his hair over and over. The stress has reached the tipping point. The harsh language Cyrus used about Olivia has triggered something in him and suddenly he needs to get some air, to get home. He hurries from his office looking pale and astonished.

"Lauren, I am leaving. Reschedule all of my procedures with Dr. Heller", he says shakily.

 _"Until when? For how long?"_ Lauren stands from her chair calling after the doctor who is already out the door.

 **XXX**

Cyrus' words continue to ring in his ears as he enters his apartment. _That woman. That woman._ He's shaking and sweating profusely and feels like he's spiraling down a dark hole. _That woman. That woman. That thing._ He feels nauseous so he rushes down the hall to the bathroom, slumps onto the floor, and wraps his arms around the white porcelain toilet. He vomits the contents of his stomach until his body has nothing more to give. Then he wails like a wounded animal.

"Oh my god, my god, my god", he cries out.

He calls out to the heavens over and over and over as he rolls onto the tile floor. Tears stream down his face and his nose runs unrelentingly. His body is wracked with pain and it feels like hot knives are being jabbed into his stomach. He can't breathe.

The once inaccessible and painful memories come flooding back in rich detail and he is transported back to a time that was buried deep in his mind long ago.

 **25 Years Ago**

Gerry and Anneke Grant identify as progressive liberals and are proud of the work they do to fight against social injustices. They decry injustice of all sorts, like discrimination, patriarchy, social and economic disparity. They always fight for the discriminated and the downtrodden. They believe everyone should be treated equally regardless of race or color. And, they have instilled these same beliefs and values in their sons, Fitzgerald and Tristan.

But some in Waukesha County look at the Grants slightly askance and wonder quietly how deep their social liberalism really runs. They question how committed they really are to their declared beliefs and the causes they endorse. After all, they live in an affluent, monochromatic, and conservative community; attend a church that lacks diversity; and don't have anyone in their social circle who doesn't look like them.

 **XXX**

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III is Gerry and Anneke Grants' first born and the apple of his parents' eyes. In their mind he is the perfect son and can do no wrong. Fitzgerald is handsome, personable, and excels academically. He is also an excellent athlete who plays lacrosse and rugby. The Grants have always believed Fitzgerald was going to be great one day and they support him in every way to make sure he achieved his goals. It is apparent to everyone in Waukesha County that Fitzgerald is the favorite son. Fitzgerald, however, didn't ask for or want the status his parents have bestowed upon him. Frankly, he is uncomfortable with the pedestal on which they have placed him because it often causes friction between him and his younger brother.

Tristan Robert Grant is three years younger than Fitzgerald and he resents his brother as much as he loves him. He has always been jealous of the attention his parents shower on their golden child. Not as academically inclined or athletically talented as his brother, Tristan always feels like a disappointment to his parents. He has never felt like he is good enough to be part of the Grant family.

The Grants are devout Christians and attend Christ the Servant Lutheran Church every Sunday, and Gerry and Anneke require their sons to participate in church ministries of their choosing. Tristan enjoys public relations and creating the messaging for new church programs so he volunteered for the Communications Ministries. Fitzgerald prefers interacting with and helping people so he volunteered for the Education Ministry and Church to Church Ministry.

Pastor Riley often preaches from _Matthew 25:40:_ _"Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."_ He includes this passage in his sermons to motivate the congregation to help the less fortunate, the least of them in Waukesha County.

Christ the Servant has established several community service and outreach ministries to help the underprivileged that live in the surrounding communities. For Thanksgiving the Nutrition Ministry collects foodstuff to fill baskets that are delivered to families who are struggling financially. And, as part of the Church to Church Ministry, several years ago they adopted Selah Baptist Church, located on the other side of town. Every year Christ the Servant congregants host a Christmas drive to help the families of the small, impoverished church.

Once Thanksgiving is over the Church to Church Ministry kicks off their annual Christmas Drive to collect donations for Selah Baptist. Congregants are asked to donate new or gently used clothes for both genders and all ages. And all toys should be new and unwrapped. Household items must be in good working condition and have all the necessary parts packed neatly. The congregants are aware of how blessed they and willingly donate their used items.

 **XXX**

Once a week Fitzgerald drives the members of the Church to Church Ministry across town in the church van to deliver the donated items to Pastor Drake. Although congregants from Christ the Servant have been delivering Christmas donations to Selah Baptist for years, Pastor Drake always feels the need to direct the boys where to store the boxes so the volunteers from Selah Baptist Youth Ministry can further sort them after school.

"Take the boxes to the storage room in the back", the pastor directs the boys. The boys chuckle to themselves as they carry the boxes to the back of the church.

"Good afternoon, Fitz. It looks like the Lord is really blessing us this year", Pastor Drake says, looking around at all of the boxes the boys have unloaded from the van.

"Yes, sir. People are feeling very generous this year", Fitz smiles proudly.

"Well, our families here at Selah Baptist are thankful for their continued generosity."

"We are all Christians and must do what we can to help each other, sir."

"You're a good young man, Fitz. You tell Pastor Riley I'll be giving him a call later this week."

The choir begins to practice for the upcoming Christmas Program and their rousing voices capture Fitz' attention. He watches the choir in amazement because he has never heard such stirring music in church. Of course he listens to his loud rock music, but he has never experienced this kind of church music.

"Does the choir always sound like that, Pastor Drake?"

"Better. They're just getting warmed up. This is their first practice for the Christmas Program. They will practice every Wednesday from seven to nine until Christmas Week. You should come back sometime to hear them, Fitz."

Over the next few weeks Fitzgerald becomes a regular visitor to Selah Baptist. He comes to the church every Wednesday after school and sometimes has biblical discussions with Pastor Drake. He is intrigued by the pastor's interpretation of scripture and how it differs somewhat from his own pastor's interpretation. And from seven to nine he watches the choir practice. Since Fitzgerald enjoys the time he spends at Selah Baptist he volunteered to help the Youth Ministry to sort the items his church has donated.

 **XXX**

At 17 years old Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III is in love for the first time and the feeling is exhilarating. He is in love with whom he thinks is the most beautiful girl in the world and he wants everyone to know it. He is so enraptured with the girl he daydreams in class about shouting his love for her from the rooftops.

It's Wednesday and Fitzgerald has been fidgety all day in school because he cannot wait for the school day to end. He has already planned to skip lacrosse practice so he can get to Selah Baptist earlier than usual.

 **XXX**

"Well, you're here early today, Fitz", Pastor Drake says, looking up from the pew he's polishing.

"Yes, sir. I wanted to get an early start unpacking the other boxes that came in late", he says excitedly.

"I see", says the pastor, giving the young man a questioningly look. "Well, you know where everything is. Go on back there."

Fitzgerald walks quickly to the back of the church and opens the door to the small storage room where he sees standing before him the person who occupies his thoughts all the time lately. The person he thinks all day. The person he dreams about at night.

For the past few weeks Fitzgerald has been watching Sabrina sing during choir practice and he thinks she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. Her caramel-colored skin, which he is dying to touch, her wide eyes, and full lips make his heart beat rapidly. He can hardly speak when he's around her and neither can she. Unaware of the code, that demarcation between the two groups, Fitzgerald pursues the girl.

"Hi, Sabrina", he says shyly to the girl who has been helping to unpack and sort the donated clothes.

"Hi", she says just as shyly with downcast eyes, continuing to unpack the box she just opened. She can't look into his eyes because if she does she believes she would surely die.

For the next hour, in silence, Fitzgerald and Sabrina unpack and sort the clothes by gender and age group, from infants to adults. The need in Sabrina's community is so great. Men, woman, and children of all ages need "new" clothes. When the two volunteers finish sorting the clothes Fitzgerald summons the courage to reveal his surprise.

"I have something for you, Sabrina - _just for you_ ", he emphasizes.

"Just for me?" She looks at him then quickly drops her eyes again to the pile of clothes. _Those eyes._

Fitzgerald digs into his book bag and retrieves a rectangular box wrapped in pink paper and hands it to her. He has noticed she likes to wear pink. Sabrina's eyes grow wide.

"I hope you like it", he says nervously.

Sabrina opens the box and the contents take her breath away.

"Oh, Fitz. It's beautiful", she says in awe.

His heart sings because this is the first time she has ever said his name.

"Let me put it on you, okay?" He asks hesitantly.

"OK", she says softly.

He removes the pink, floral silk scarf from the box and drapes it around her neck. The color is perfect for her complexion. Sabrina fingers the smooth material. She has never felt anything so soft or seen anything so beautiful in all of her 15 years. She has never had anything new, anything that was her own, just for her. For the first time they really look into each other's eyes and they smile.

"Sabrina! Are you back there? It's time to go home", her mother shouts from the hall.

They both jump, startled by her mother's calling voice. Sabrina snatches the scarf from her neck and quickly stuffs it back into its container. She buttons her coat and hides the box inside.

"I have to go, Fitz", she whispers nervously as she grabs her book bag from the rickety table. He nods, grinning like a boy in love.

"Coming momma", she yells, rushing to the door where she stops abruptly and turns to look at a smiling Fitz. "Thank you, Fitz. I just love it!"

"Can we go for a walk in the grove next time?" He asks quickly.

"OK. But before choir practice starts", rushing out the door to her waiting mother.

 **XXX**

"Something's going on with that boy, Anneke. He's been acting awfully strange lately. If I didn't know any better I would think he was in love."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gerry. Fitzgerald isn't interested in girls right now. He keeps his head in those books too much. He's so focused on getting into Harvard he doesn't have time for girls. Besides, he hasn't bought anyone home for us to meet."

Tristan stands in the hall eavesdropping on his parents' conversation. He shakes his head because they are clueless about what their precious Fitzgerald has been up to.

 **XXX**

Fitz and Sabrina hold hands as they walk in the grove far behind the church. This has become their private place. This is where they talk about their day, about what happened in school. This is where they talk about their faith. This is where they talk about their sometimes annoying siblings who they love dearly. This is where they debate the differences between rock and R&B music. This is where they talk about their future, what they hope to become when they are adults. This is where they kiss.

"I want you to come to my house, Sabrina, to meet my family", Fitz announces suddenly.

Sabrina's eyes widen and her heart quickens.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Fitz", she says nervously, looking down at the ground.

"Why not? My family will love you like I love you", he says excitedly.

"Fitz, we are too different. I don't think your family -"

"My family are Christians, Bri, just like yours. Race is not an issue for them."

"I don't know, Fitz. I would be too scared to go over to that part of town."

"You won't have anything to worry about, Bri. I'll protect you. I'll always protect you", he says confidently before kissing her deeply.

 **One Week Later**

Although she is nervous and doesn't really think it's a good idea, Sabrina has finally let Fitz convince her to visit his home to meet his family. As she stands outside, looking up at the big white house, she is in awe.

"Wow, Fitz. This is a huge house. Our house would fit in here like 20 times."

"Come on, silly. Let me show you my room", grabbing her hand and pulling her up the steep steps that lead to the wraparound porch. Her pink scarf that she now wears every day swings from side to side as she climbs up the steps.

Sabrina's eyes almost pop out of her head as she stands in the foyer of the magnificent home. She can't believe her eyes as she looks around, taking in the unfamiliar. She had no idea people actually lived in houses like this. Well maybe not the people she knows but perhaps the people her mother works for. Fitz grabs her hand and pulls her up the grand staircase that leads to his bedroom. As the young couple run up the stairs, Tristan stands near the parlor watching his brother take the girl to his bedroom.

 _"Fitz, this is your room? You mean you don't have to share it with anybody?"_

"Nope", thrilled Sabrina has finally agreed to visit his home after pleading with her for days.

"You want to listen to some music, Bri?"

"OK", hardly listening to him as she roams around the room.

 _"And you have your own bathroom, too?"_

"Yup", turning up the volume on his boom box.

"Fitz, when grow up I want a house just like this", twirling around the room.

"OK. I'll buy you one", he says, looking at her with desire.

"Fitz ..." She giggles.

"I love you, Bri. I love everything about you. I want us to be together forever and a day", he says sitting on the edge of his bed.

Fitz pulls Sabrina on top of him by the pink scarf that hangs from her neck and they begin to kiss.

"I love you, Sabrina", he says huskily, kissing her with fervor.

"I love you too, Fitz."

 **XXX**

"Tristan, is Fitzgerald home or is he over at _that_ Baptist Church again? I don't know what I'm going to do with him."

"I think Fitz is in his room, mother - with company." He glances at his mother slyly, checking if she has taken the bait.

"Company? I'll just have to ask his friends to go home. It's almost dinner time and he knows your father doesn't like eating dinner with strangers."

Anneke Grant climbs the grand staircase to her son's bedroom. She hears the music blasting so she doesn't bother to knock knowing the boys would never hear her over the loud music. When the door swings open she gasps at the sight before her.

 _"Fitzgerald!"_ She yells.

Sabrina jumps from Fitz' arms, looking scared and not knowing what to do. Her heart is pounding and all she wants is her momma.

 _"What are you doing with that_ _thing_ _in your bed - in our home?"_

Tears start to roll down Sabrina's face. She knows she has no business being on this side of town, in this big house, in Fitz' bedroom. _Momma's gonna kill me._

"Mother", Fitzgerald says getting up from the bed and placing a protective arm around a trembling Sabrina. "This is Sabrina, she's my girlfriend", he beams proudly.

 _"She's a nigger!"_

Fitz' eyes bulge, shocked by his mother's words.

 _"Mother -"_

 _"Gerry, Gerry! Get up here now!"_

Gerry runs up the grand staircase two steps at a time and Tristan follows him but remains in the hall outside of his brother's room listening to the ruckus.

 _"What the hell?"_ Gerry shrieks as he enters the bedroom.

Sabrina is scared of the people glaring at her with hate in their eyes, with eyes that look like Fitz' eyes. She begins to cry and shake uncontrollably. She looks between Fitz and his parents, not knowing what to do.

"Father, Sabrina is my _girlfriend_ ", naively thinking his father would understand.

 _"You bring that nigger gal into our home? I told you Anneke he has too many fanciful ideas- spending all of his time over at that damn church."_

Fitz is flabbergasted. He can't believe what he's hearing. He has never heard his parents speak this way.

"I'm scared, Fitz. I wanna go home", Sabrina says through tears.

"I'll take you home, Bri", he says sadly, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "I'm so sorry."

 _"You won't leave this damn house"_ , Gerry growls.

Sabrina presses herself against a wall, trying desperately to disappear.

"Father, I am going to take Sabrina home. She cannot walk home alone."

" _You're a goddamn idiot, Fitzgerald. You fuck those kind of girls in a shed or somewhere, not in our home!"_

Sabrina runs from the bedroom and down the hall, making her way to the grand staircase but freezes when she sees Tristan. Fitz hears Sabrina scream and he runs from his bedroom and down the stairs where he sees Sabrina laying at the foot of the grand staircase. Blood trickles from her ear and mouth, staining the pink, floral silk scarf spread across the floor. She stares at him blankly with tears rolling from the corners of her eyes and down the sides of her face.

 _"Bri!"_ Fitz yells, tears streaming down his face.

"You said you would protect me, Fitz", then her eyes close.

" _Bri! Bri!"_

 _"We gotta get her out of here"_ , Gerry yells to his wife.

 _"No!"_ Fitz screams hysterically, rocking Sabrina's lifeless body in his arms. " _Don't touch her!_ _Don't you touch her!"_

 _"Get him upstairs to his room, Gerry! I'll call Daniel."_

As Fitz struggles to get out of his father's grip he sees his mother grab the pink, blood-stained scarf from the floor and stuff it into the pocket of her dress. Tristan stands off to the side in the upstairs hall and smirks at the pathetic scene.

 **XXX**

For the first few days following the incident Fitzgerald called out for Sabrina every day until one day he just stopped talking. And for the next two weeks he lay in his bed in a catatonic state. With a look of frozen astonishment on his face he stares blankly at nothing in particular. His mother sits at her son's bedside all day and night trying to coax him back to her.

"Anneke", Gerry says, his huge frame standing in the doorway of Fitzgerald's bedroom. "It's time –"

" _No",_ she screams, throwing her body protectively across her son's chest. "He just needs more time, Gerry. He'll come around." Tears run down her tired face.

"Anneke, he's been like this for two weeks now. The doctor says he needs to be someplace where he can get the proper care. Dr. Ludlow says he can't continue to sedate him."

" _I won't put my Fitzgerald into a mental institution with those people. I won't!"_

"Dr. Ludlow has found a fine _school_ out of state for Fitzgerald. He will get the help he needs there, Anneke."

Anneke shakes her head, looks at her son, and strokes his face. She kisses him on the temple and walks from the bedroom, never looking back. The medical attendants enter the bedroom, remove Fitzgerald from his bed, and carry him down the grand staircase and out of the front door to the waiting ambulance. Tristan smirks as he watches, from his bedroom door, his brother being carried down the staircase.

 **XXX**

Fitzgerald is still in a catatonic state when he is admitted to Serenity Pines Institute. His body is rigid as he lay in his hospital bed motionless, unable to move and interact with his environment. He doesn't make eye contact with the doctors or staff and he remains mute. Unable or unwilling to eat or drink, a gastric feeding tube is inserted into his stomach to provide the nutrition he needs.

For several days after Fitzgerald is admitted to Serenity Pines, Dr. Reynolds, Fitzgerald's psychiatrist, meets with the parents trying to determine what could have caused their son's mental breakdown. The Grants deny having any knowledge of what could be the cause of their son's condition. Moreover, they concoct a story where their younger son found Fitzgerald laying in his bed unresponsive. To make matters worse, they wonder out loud if Fitzgerald was, perhaps, using drugs. After running a battery of tests on the young man, the doctors immediately rule out drugs as the cause of his condition. They are baffled by what could have caused an otherwise healthy young man with no history of psychiatric problems or drug use to have a mental breakdown.

 **XXX**

Gerry and Anneke Grant sit in the two chairs in front of Dr. Reynold's desk, listening to the latest update on their son's condition. After two months at Serenity Pines Fitzgerald isn't progressing and is still catatonic. The drugs administered to bring him out of his stupor aren't working so the doctors recommend his parents consent to Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT), formerly known as electro shock treatment.

"Are you talking about shocking his brain? That's barbaric!" Anneke Grant says in a horrified voice.

"Mrs. Grant, this type of therapy is used for extreme cases, often as a last line of intervention."

"How often will Fitzgerald need this therapy?" Gerry asks, on the verge of his own emotional breakdown.

"A usual course of ECT involves multiple administrations, typically given two or three times a week until the patient is no longer suffering from the symptoms. Each treatment is done under general anesthesia with a muscle relaxant", the doctor explains.

Anneke Grant gasps and closes her eyes tightly, wondering what they have done to their precious Fitzgerald.

"We can't subject Fitzgerald to that kind of treatment, Gerry. It's not right."

"Without this therapy, Mrs. Grant, I'm afraid your son might not ever recover." Dr. Reynolds looks at her intently. "You should also know, however, as a result of the therapy, Fitzgerald could experience changes in his personality."

"Anneke, we don't have a choice – Fitzgerald doesn't have a choice. He's been here for two months and the medications aren't working."

"This could change him forever, Gerry", she says sadly.

"I know. I know. We will pray for our son."

After three rounds of ECT, Fitzgerald finally comes out of his stupor. And his psychiatrist starts the talk therapy with him to hopefully uncover whatever has caused his emotional breakdown.

Fitzgerald meets with Dr. Reynolds daily and he still has no recollection of how he got to Serenity Pines. Dr. Reynolds shared with him the story his parents told him and Fitzgerald is further confused because none of it makes sense to him.

Dr. Reynolds knows something traumatic happened to the young man. He knows Fitzgerald has experienced something so horrific that his mind grabbed ahold of the memory and pushed it down into some inaccessible corner of his unconscious mind. Dr. Reynolds is confident the boy's parents are not being totally forthcoming and wonders what secret could be more important than helping their son regain his mental health.

In Dr. Reynolds' weekly phone call to the Grants, he explains that Fitzgerald is not suppressing the memory of whatever happened to him, where he has consciously chosen not to deal with whatever happened. Instead, he has repressed the memory, which means he is no longer aware of the traumatic event that caused him to end up at Serenity Pines. He has tucked away whatever happened deep into his unconscious mind.

 **XXX**

Tristan is elated his brother is away at _school_ as his silly parents like to refer to that over-priced nut house. Now he will have his parents all to himself. With their precious Fitzgerald out of the picture Tristan is sure his parents will give him the same love they showered on his brother. But to his chagrin, after several months pass, he still doesn't get the love he needs from his parents. So, he tries another tactic.

It's the dinner hour, which has become the most depressing hour of the day at the Grant house because no one talks any more. Dinner used to be a lively time because Fitzgerald kept his parents laughing as he regaled everyone with stories about all of the activities in which he was involved. Now the only sound to be heard at dinner time is the scraping of silverware against the porcelain plates. Anneke Grant still sets a plate for Fitzgerald and Tristan frowns at the place setting as he walks into the room.

" _Tristan!"_ His mother shouts, enraged by her son's appearance.

Tristan is wearing a big smile and his brother's clothes: shirt, jacket, and pants. He has also gelled and combed his hair the way Fitzgerald styles his. His father turns around and is livid when he sees his younger son pretending to be Fitzgerald.

" _You sick bastard!"_ Gerry snarls.

"Father, mother. I –"

" _You are evil, Tristan"_ , his mother yells. _"You have always been evil. This is all your fault. I know you tricked me into finding Fitzgerald in his room with that …. And now you do this?"_ She turns away from her son as tears stream down her face.

"Mother, father, I just want you to love me like you love Fitz", he says pitifully.

" _Get your ass upstairs and get out of those clothes. Now!"_ Gerry shouts.

" _I did it for you. I do everything for you and you never appreciate it. I even pushed that girl down the stairs for you",_ he looks at his parents wild-eyed, stunned by his unplanned confession.

His parents are horrified by their son's admission and Gerry begins to beat Tristan about the head with his fists.

"You never should've been born", his mother says under her breath, but her son hears her and what's left of his heart breaks into tiny pieces.

"You will never speak of this again. Do you hear me?" His father yells.

"Yes, father", tears stream down his face as he walks up the grand staircase to change out of his brother's clothes.

"Fitzgerald can never know", Anneke says softly, looking at her husband before walking slowly from the room, shaking her head in despair.

 **XXX**

After seven months of therapy Dr. Reynolds thinks Fitzgerald is ready to be discharged from Serenity Pines.

"Mr., Mrs. Grant, I am sorry to say that we have not been successful in uncovering whatever has caused Fitzgerald to end up here. And I must say that it is frustrating for him and for me."

The Grants look intently at the doctor.

"But just because he doesn't remember what happened, it is possible that his unconscious pain can seep into his conscious mind, causing him to behave in unusual ways. And, unfortunately, he will be clueless as to why he behaves a certain way."

The doctor looks between the couple before continuing, checking if they understand what he is say to them.

"What I am saying to you Mr., Mrs. Grant, the Fitzgerald you knew before whatever happened to him might be lost to you forever."

Anneke Grant's eyes widen and her hand covers her mouth. She can't imagine losing her precious son forever. Gerry pats her arm in consolation.

Dr. Reynolds continues, wanting to give the parents one last chance to come clean.

"So, once again, if you have any idea what happened to your son it would be in his best interest, in the long term, that you share it with me."

"As we said before doctor, our younger son found Fitzgerald in that awful state", Gerry says stiffly, shifting in his chair.

The doctor looks between the couple and shakes his head, knowing they aren't telling him the truth.

"Well whatever happened, it can sleep in his unconscious mind for years, decades, or even forever – isolated from the rest of his conscious mind."

The Grants are silently thankful that Fitzgerald might not ever remember what happened.

"However", the doctor cautions. "The repressed memory _can_ return 5, 10, 20 years from now – something can trigger its return. Fitzgerald could see something on the news, in a movie, or read something in a book. He can learn of someone else's trauma or he could experience another traumatic or stressful event."

" _If_ the repressed memory returns, it could be vague or detailed and vivid, which can be devastating for your son. If the memory returns with intensity, then Fitzgerald will feel like he's reliving the traumatic event all over again."

When Fitzgerald is discharged from Serenity Pines he is indeed a changed young man, as the doctor indicated could happen. He is no longer outgoing and social. He is now reserved and detached and is not interested in reconnecting with his friends or dating. He no longer participates in team sports or volunteers at his church. His sole focus are his studies and getting accepted into Harvard. He's emotionally numb and he doesn't know why.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I understand no one wants to read sad chapters, but they serve a purpose and we're almost through this period. I love the varied and differing perspectives and responses to the last chapter. Thank you for sharing your views, critical and complimentary. Once again, Olitz is endgame. Bujuman, this Olitz is special, but for a different reason. Clio1792, loved your analysis and the adage, never heard of it and will add it to my wall. KJassicaMartin1, I like that you remember the Mr. Freeze reference. That was one of the many bread crumbs I've been leaving. Crabapplect, triniflava47 you'll get your answers in this chapter. CeresHelena,** **Eu entendo que você** **e estou** **impressionado** **você usa o Google** **Translate** **para ler** **fanfic** **.** **Obrigado.** **A tristeza** **não vai durar** **muito mais tempo** **. Hope I got that right. Here we go.**

 **Chapter 9. James**

 **Back at Fitz' Apartment**

The memories come surging back like an out-of-control and doomed locomotive and there is no time to slam on the brakes, to stop the derailment. There is no time to prepare for the emotional upheaval, the surge of painful feelings that have begun to overwhelm him. There is no time to hide. So for three days he lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in the fetal position as the painful emotions consume him, torture him as he relives the memories of that fateful day, as he relives the memories of Sabrina.

On the first day the sun rose and set as the memories transported him to an emotional hell where he wrestled with the demons named guilt, anger, and shame. On the second day the sun rose and set as he screamed out to the heavens for relief, to take away the mental and physical pain. On the third day the sun rose and set and he broke through the torture. And at the end of the third day he got up from the cold, tiled floor and the emotional healing begins.

He looks into the mirror as he shaves and is repulsed by the image reflected so he avoids it as he brushes his teeth. He showers, dresses in fresh clothes, and tosses his three-day-old soiled clothes into the trash. Having not eaten for three days, he's weak and light-headed, so he makes his way to the kitchen and prepares a light dinner of scrambled eggs, dry toast, coffee, and Gatorade; not for enjoyment but for nourishment.

For the next two days he sits in his apartment contemplating the resurfaced memories and all of the events that surround them. He thinks about how naïve he was not to know about his parents' true beliefs on race. He thinks about how his naïveté resulted in Sabrina's death and tears well in his eyes. He thinks about how burying those memories deep into his mind almost cost Olivia her life. The parallels are uncanny and the guilt and shame deepen. After a few moments, he reaches for his phone.

 **XXX**

"Psst", the old woman beckons him over with her bony fingers.

Fitz walks slowly over to the woman, not in the mood for one of their playful conversations with his new friend."

"Where have you been? Haven't seen you around here since last month", looking at him curiously.

"Olivia and I are taking a break – giving each other some space", he says solemnly. He doesn't know why he always feels the need to tell the woman everything going on in his relationship with Olivia.

" _A break!"_ The old woman shrieks, adjusting the shawl around her thin shoulders. "A break from what? Is this _her_ idea?"

He nods.

"This won't do. No, this won't do at all. Too much work has been done."

Fitz looks at the woman quizzically, unsure of what she's talking about and quite frankly not in the mood to care.

"Don't pay her any mind", waving her hand dismissively in the air. "She's just scared."

"I'm afraid it's more than that. Terrible things have happened. There are things she doesn't know about me."

Helen Teller looks at the man's dejected face for a long moment before speaking. She knows she cannot overstep.

"You go in there and tell her – tell her _everything_. She'll understand."

Fitz gives the woman a strange look, nods, then walks across the hall to Olivia's apartment.

 **XXX**

Olivia holds the door open allowing Fitz to enter the apartment. He no longer uses his key. As she closes the door she sees Mrs. Teller closing her door. Fitz looks around the space thinking how much has happened since the last time he was here.

"Hi", he says, giving her a weak smile.

"Hi", she says softly, walking across the room and looking down at the floor.

"Thank you for allowing me to come over."

He looks at her sadly and her heart breaks again. He doesn't look well. He doesn't look like he's been sleeping.

"I just needed to tell you again how sorry I am for putting you in danger. I now realize it was all my fault - I was reckless. I promised you I would always protect you - never let anything happen to you and I let you down. My brother …"

He shakes his head and his eyes brim with tears. Olivia wraps her arms around her body at the memory.

"I know you hate me, and I can't blame you. I understand."

Shocked by his words she looks up at him because she could never hate him. She just needed time to think, time to try to make sense of everything.

"Liv, all of my life people have called me naive and I guess I am, and I'm not proud to admit it", he says sadly. "My naïveté almost cost you your life and I will never forgive myself for that. But I'm not here seeking your forgiveness. I don't deserve it."

She doesn't want to cry but a lone tear trickles down her cheek and she swipes it away quickly with the back of her hand.

"Liv, this past month, since we've been apart, has been extremely difficult for me. I've missed you so much." He looks at her with remorse and regret. "But being alone has allowed me to reflect on my life and what happened to you - what he did to you, and my parents. It's been a painful process but I now have answers. I now remember everything."

She looks at him and wonders what he is talking about.

"When you asked me how I couldn't know about my family's racist beliefs I really didn't have an answer because I didn't understand it myself. Now I do."

He begins to pace around the room and she furrows her brows, following his movements with her eyes.

"Liv, there is something you don't know about me - something you _deserve_ to know."

He stops pacing and looks at her nervously with guilt and shame etched into his handsome face, and he begins to tell her everything.

"When I was 17 years old I was hospitalized, sent to a mental institution for almost a year - for nine months actually. The doctors said I experienced some kind of traumatic event that I repressed, causing me to shut down – become catatonic. I didn't remember anything about what happened for all of these years – until last week when all the memories came flooding back."

She looks at him in astonishment.

"It was the year before I was to graduate high school. It was the year I met Sabrina."

God, he hasn't said her name out loud since that day.

"I fell in love with her - we fell in love actually. She was 15, kind and funny, and had the most beautiful voice. And I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen."

He smiles weakly at the memory and rubs his forehead because that's what he does when he nervous and uncomfortable.

"I wanted my family to meet Bri – to meet the girl I was in love with, so one day I brought her to our home. We were just talking and listening to music in my bedroom, then we started making out. It was all innocent - just kissing. We were just kids really, but my mother caught us and she called in my father."

He walks to the window and stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. It's raining in Phoenix today.

"They yelled such horrible things at Bri, using words I'd never heard them use before. They blamed her for seducing me when, in fact, I was the one who pursued her. I think Bri always knew we shouldn't be together but I convinced her ..."

"Bri – she was so scared and she just wanted to go home but they kept shouting at her, berating her – saying those awful things." He shakes his head at the memory.

"She looked at me with the saddest eyes, pleading for me to help her. She just wanted to go home - wanted to get away from them - to escape their shouting."

He shakes his head again and silently stares out the window for a few minutes. Olivia looks at him curiously. She has never seen him this distraught and it frightens her.

"Bri ran from my bedroom and down the staircase. She must've lost her footing – tripped or something - because she fell down the stairs. When I heard her scream I ran to the hall and saw her laying at the bottom of the staircase, with blood coming from her ear and mouth. She was so twisted and mangled, Liv."

His body begins to tremble and Olivia gasps and clutches her chest from across the room.

"I guess I had an emotional breakdown or something because I'm told I didn't speak for weeks after …. That's when my parents sent me away."

Finally he turns and looks at her, tears now cascading down both their faces. Olivia is stunned and is finding it difficult to breathe.

"When I was discharged I still didn't know why I was hospitalized, but I knew I wasn't the same person - I just didn't feel the same. I was numb and didn't feel anything emotionally for a very long time. And that's how I lived my life, not feeling, focused on work and not interested in emotional attachments of any kind. That worked well for a long while until I met you that day on the plane, in the taxi actually." He smiles at her weakly. "I hadn't felt anything in years, Liv, but you made me feel something on that plane. That's how I knew you were the one."

Her heart is breaking for him. She can't believe his family did this to him, kept something like this from him for all these years. They're worse than she imagined.

"Liv …" He opens his mouth to speak but the words won't come."

She looks at him curiously, wondering what he is finding so difficult to say. She nods at him, encouraging him to speak.

"What is it, Fitz. Say it", taking a few steps toward him.

Filled with shame, he looks down at the floor, then raises his head slowly and looks into her eyes.

"Liv - Sabrina was black." 

She freezes and her eyes almost pop from her head. Now everything about his family makes sense.

"My parents, the so-called liberal Christians, didn't want me and Sabrina together because of something as superficial as the color of her skin although they espoused racial equality. And I didn't know."

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor again, studying the familiar pattern in the rug under the coffee table. 

"Liv, I brought you into a house of hate – a house filled with racists and you almost died - like Sabrina - because of me. And I'll never forgive myself for that."

A long silence fills the air until Olivia finally finds her voice and speaks as she takes a few more steps toward him.

"Fitz, we are not responsible for the behaviors of others, _especially_ our parents." She gives him a knowing look and he nods. "You and Sabrina were two young and innocent kids who fell in love, who didn't consider color or race. You two were idealistic in a world where some believed your love was wrong - inappropriate. But the two of you knew otherwise, even at 15 and 17."

"I feel so guilty, Liv – so ashamed."

"Fitz, you have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. You did nothing wrong. What your parents did to you and Sabrina was just wrong. You lost someone you loved deeply and you never got the chance to mourn her – to say good-bye."

He looks at her curiously as she takes his hand in hers and looks into his sad eyes.

"A very smart person once told me that grieving is a process, and you were denied the right to grieve Sabrina. But it's not too late, Fitz, you can still mourn her. You can still mourn the beautiful young girl who captured the heart of a young boy. Mourn Sabrina and mourn 17-year-old Fitzgerald. Maybe mourning can be the first step to forgiving yourself – to healing."

Her words give him permission to let go and his legs buckle, and she is on the floor with him, holding him, rocking him, and loving him.

"Don't swallow the pain, babe. Just let your heart break. Let it out."

"I loved her, Liv. I loved her with all of my heart."

"I know. I know." She holds his head against her breasts and rubs her hand up and down his arm.

"It's my fault she's dead. I promised to protect her." The memories are still overwhelming and he's finding it difficult to breathe.

"No, no. It's not your fault. You did _nothing_ wrong. You just wanted to share the most beautiful and natural feeling in the world. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong."

"They made us feel like our love was dirty. They wanted me to feel foolish for loving Bri. I didn't want to live knowing she was dead. I took the coward's way out." His voice is broken as he tries to speak through the tears.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of – nothing", she says emphatically. "The pain was too much. Sabrina's death was too much and you had no one to help you – no one who understood what you were feeling. You needed to find a safe place – a way to protect yourself - so you tucked away the memories until you were ready to deal with them. But you don't have to hide any longer. You're safe now. You're safe, Fitz." She strokes his head trying to comfort him while silently cursing his parents.

"But, Liv, I hurt so bad inside. I feel the pain in every cell of my body."

His body shudders and he curls into the fetal position on the floor. Olivia grabs pillows from the sofa and places them under his head. She wraps the throw and her body around his body, trying to warm him, but the coldness is from within. He's reliving Sabrina's death but this time he's not alone. She is with him and will stay with him and hold him until the pain is no more.

 **The Next Morning**

He had a restless night, tossing and turning in his sleep. Frankly, he has not had a good night's sleep since the memories have resurfaced, and the snoring has returned. His restlessness has caused her to be restless so she gets out of bed before dawn and goes to the living room to email Tim, the project manager for the new building she designing on the outskirts of town. She needs to reschedule their meeting this morning to review the latest revisions to the architectural plans. Today she needs to be home for Fitz.

"Good morning", he says, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the living room.

"Hi", she says, looking up from her phone and giving him an understanding smile.

"Did I keep you up all night?" He asks sadly.

"I needed to check email any way", she says, looking at his tousled hair. She has missed him.

"You need your sleep, Liv. I'll go back to my place later today."

" _No_ ", she says quickly. "I mean you shouldn't be alone, Fitz. I don't want you to be alone."

"I don't want to intrude."

"You can never intrude. Besides, we have to figure out some things."

He looks at her strangely, unclear of what she's talking about.

"Fitz …" She wants to tread carefully as she reveals her theory to him. "Fitz, Tristan said something to me that made no sense to me at the time …."

Fitz looks at her curiously.

"When he was choking me that night he said something about giving me what he gave Sabrina."

" _What?"_ His eyes are wide.

"I had no idea what he was talking about, of course. Babe, I wonder if Sabrina really did lose her balance."

Fitz furrows his brows.

"Are you saying ...?" Anger beginning to cloud his face.

"I don't know. I just think it's something to be considered. Do you know where Tristan was when Sabrina fell down the stairs?"

"It was so long ago, Liv and I wasn't in the best shape."

"Think, Fitz. Try to remember."

He walks over to the window and shakes his head as he watches the sun begin to rise.

"The memories of that day have been buried for so long …" He runs his hand through his hair.

Olivia walks behind him, wraps her arms around his waist, and lays her head on his back.

"Try, Fitz. Try", she urges him.

Silence fills the air for a few moments as he tries to recall the details of that day 25 years ago. He lifts her hand and kisses her ring, then he begins.

"When I heard Sabrina scream", he shakes his head again and a lump forms in his throat. Olivia runs a soothing hand up and down his chest and places a soft kiss on his back.

"When I heard Bri scream I ran from my room and down the stairs …" He shakes his head again because he can see clearly Sabrina's twisted body laying at the bottom of the staircase. Tears run down his face and Olivia tightens her arms around him.

"My parents ran from my bedroom - down the stairs." He rubs his forehead.

"I held Bri in my arms. Liv, she was bleeding. She looked so frightened and I felt so helpless. My dear parents were only concerned with getting Bri out of there. My father pulled me from Bri and up the stairs to my room."

More memories begin to resurface.

"I saw my mother pick up the pink scarf I gave Bri and stuff it into her pocket as my father was dragging me up the stairs."

She rubs his chest encouraging him to continue.

"When we got to the top of the stairs, that's when I saw Tristan standing in the hall, outside of my bedroom. He seemed to be smirking at me."

He shakes his head.

"Liv, that doesn't mean …"

"We don't know what it means, but we do know a crime was committed. Whether Sabrina's death was an accident or murder, her body was moved, and that's a crime."

Fitz turns and looks at her wide eyed, knowing what she means.

"We have to call James", she says, looking at him intently.

 **Three Days Later**

Olivia left the apartment early this morning, slipping out quietly so she did not disturb Fitz. She did not want to wake him because last night was the first good night's sleep he has had since coming to her apartment.

Now she sits in the Novaks' kitchen, at the huge island, drinking coffee with James and Michael. It's been 15 months since their precious Ella departed this world and the grieving and mourning process has been long and difficult for the little girl's parents. And the grieving has not been any less painful for Olivia. Since the funeral Olivia has talked with her best friend James every day, despite her own emotional state she sucked it up. Regardless of her professional and personal demands she called James every day to check on him and Michael. When they were ready, once a month Olivia would have lunch with the fathers so they could support each other and reminisce about little girl they all loved dearly. After a long while it was no longer painful to talk about their baby girl. After a while their lunch dates became a celebration of Ella's life rather than a mourning of her death. They all could now laugh about the little girl's antics. Olivia regaled the fathers with stories about her and Ella's sleepovers and the fathers told Olivia stories of some of Ella's daily activities.

As the months passed and Olivia began to reconcile her feelings for Fitz, she finally summoned the courage to tell James and Michael about her growing relationship with Dr. Grant. She told them how their paths crossed in the taxi, and they laughed. She told them about the incident on the plane, and they laughed even harder. And she told them how they met again, unexpectedly, in Ella's hospital room. And she told them how they became more attracted to each other and started dating. She was unsure how James and Michael would respond to her dating the doctor who was unable to save their little princess. Actually, she was downright nervous because she did not want to have to choose.

"It sounds like the heavens were conspiring in favor of you two", Michael says, smiling as he squeezes Olivia's hand.

"He's a good man, Liv", James jumps in. "Before you came back to Ella's room that day, Dr. Grant spent a lot of time with us discussing her condition. He explained, in an easy-to-understand way, about subdural hematomas. He showed us pictures of a healthy brain and pictures of Ella's damaged brain. He explained that while the final decision was Michael's and mine, he gave us his professional opinion. He said he would do whatever we wanted but he didn't think it be in Ella's best interest to subject her to a long and messy procedure that in the end wouldn't change anything."

"Liv, he made it easier for us to let Ella go", Michael says.

"But Liv …" James is getting emotional and Olivia looks at him with concern. Michael wraps his arm around his husband's shoulder. "The most astonishing thing Dr. Grant did …" James wipes the tears from his eyes. "Liv, he prayed with us. _Dr. Grant prayed with us._ He held our hands and prayed for our little girl and he prayed for Michael and me. He prayed that God would help us through this difficult time."

Tears are streaming down Olivia's face. She had no idea about any of this. Fitz never said a word and she begins to feel badly for the way she treated him, for questioning if he cared about Ella as a person.

"And, Liv …" James reaches across the counter and rests his hand atop hers. "Dr. Grant still calls once a month to check on us. He's a good man, Liv. He's been instrumental in helping Michael and me to heal. If I weren't already married …" He smiles mischievously at Olivia then looks up at his husband.

Olivia can't stop the tears from flowing because she is so proud of Fitz' big heart. He is a good man and she is angry about what has happened to him. She's angry that this brilliant, big-hearted man is broken. She's angry because his family kept this secret from him. It all breaks her heart.

"Liv, what's wrong? What's the matter?" James looks at her with concern, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"It's Fitz … He needs you, James. He needs your help."

James looks at his emotionally distressed friend wondering what's going on. And Olivia spends the next hour telling James and Michael everything about Fitz and Sabrina.

 **XXX**

For the past week Fitz has been staying at Olivia's apartment trying to reconcile what he has remembered and to deal with the emotional fall-out. Olivia insisted he stay with her so she can support him through this dark period. Now that she knows the truth, the full story, she wants to be his side, help him through the healing process. While she is angry about what his parents did to him, she is relieved to know that he is not like them, that he is the kind, loving, and generous man she fell in love with.

When he awakens to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains, he wonders where Olivia is. He slept longer than usual this morning and did not hear when she got out of bed. He showers then walks back to the bedroom and digs through his dresser drawers for something to wear. He slides on his boxers, jeans, and a tee shirt and looks into the mirror. His reflection is almost unrecognizable. He does not know who he is any longer. Everything he thought to be true about his life, about his family is a lie. And sometimes he finds it difficult to look into Olivia's eyes because he's afraid of what he might see. Does she find him disgusting? Pitiful? Can she still love this version of him?

He walks bare feet to the kitchen and pours himself coffee Olivia made before she left and thinks about his next steps. He can no longer work, not like this. He has too much emotional business to reconcile. But at some point he needs to decide if he can return to Children's. Cyrus crossed the line. He has so many decisions to make and for the first time he is clueless about what to do, he doesn't have a plan. But how does one plan for what has happened to him? He sits at the kitchen table sipping his coffee, deep in thought, when he hears Olivia's key in the lock.

"I've always loved this place, Liv."

"I guess you do since you selected it."

"Well, when you told me you were moving out here I got onto the job right away. It's so you."

"It is, James. I just love it, but I've been spending most of my time at Fitz' place. It's much bigger."

"But this is such a gem, Liv."

"Good morning", Fitz says, leaning against the door frame leading to the living room with arms and legs crossed.

Olivia and James stop their chattering and look over to the handsome but weary-looking man. Olivia looks into his eyes and assesses him quickly before walking over and kissing him on the lips. He needed that.

"Dr. Grant", James says, smiling from across the room, watching his best friend show affection to her man.

"James, what did I tell you about that Dr. Grant business?" He walks over to shake James' hand, giving him a weak smile.

"All right. All right. Fitz it is." James puts his hands up in surrender, then walks over to the sofa and sets his brief case on the coffee table he selected for Olivia. James sits on the sofa.

"I have breakfast for you, babe", she says, smiling and holding up the bag for him.

"Thank you", pecking her on the lips again.

"Come on", she pulls him by the hand. Sit. I'll get your coffee.

Olivia walks into the kitchen as Fitz sits in one of the mid-century chairs situated in front of the coffee table. He places his breakfast bag onto the table.

"I see Liv still hasn't learned how to cook", James says, looking up from his phone at Fitz.

Fitz smiles as Olivia enters the room with the coffee service and a plate. She sets the service onto the table and begins to plate Fitz' breakfast.

"Eat", she says in a playful but commanding voice.

"Yes ma'am", he says, digging into his food.

"Yes, eat Fitzgerald. You're going to need your strength. We have 25 years worth of work to do."

 **XXX**

"Fitz, you should know that long-repressed memories that return after decades often return while a person is in therapy. These kinds of cases have become highly publicized over the years. In 1991 actress Roseanne Barr Arnold's story was on the cover of _People Magazine_. Memories of her mother abusing her from the time she was an infant until she was six or seven years old had returned in therapy. Also in 1991 there is the case of former Miss America Marilyn Van Derbur, who had repressed any knowledge of sexual violation by her father until she was 24 years old. She didn't tell the world about her abuse until after her father died."

Fitz is astonished. Although he learned about repressed memories when he studied Psychology as an undergraduate, he was unfamiliar with the two cases. He also knows that there are differing opinions in the psychological community about whether repressed memories is a true condition.

"But these were cases of sexual and physical abuse. Your case is different, however. We are not talking about sexual or physical abuse. We're talking about parents who hid a tragic secret from their teenage son, and that is not a crime. It doesn't make for good parents, but it is not a crime", James says. "However, there is precedence for a civil lawsuit." James is in full attorney mode now.

"Lawsuit?" Fitz asks in astonishment, looking up at Olivia.

"Yes, Fitz. Plaintiffs bring lawsuits for a myriad of reasons."

"Lawsuit, plaintiffs, you're using a lot of legal language here, James. Are you suggesting that I file a lawsuit against my own parents?" For Fitz, this is unthinkable.

"I'm suggesting you need to determine what you want. Some plaintiffs hope for emotional justice, while others want personal satisfaction. What. Do. You. Want, Fitz?"

"I want justice for Sabrina. I want her family to know the truth", he says without hesitation.

Olivia sits on the arm of his chair and rubs her hand up and down his back.

"And I want justice for you too, babe", Olivia says. "You were deceived by your own parents for all of these years. You lived your entire life not knowing the truth. Keeping what happened to Sabrina a secret changed who you were intended to be. It changed you", she says adamantly.

"As I said, that's enough for a criminal case, Liv", James interjects. "No disrespect, Fitz, but _if_ there is a criminal case here it will be around Sabrina's death."

Deep in thought, Fitz nods his head slowly.

"She may have been murdered. And surely that's a crime", Olivia interjects.

"We have no proof of murder, Liv. We don't know if Sabrina tripped down those stairs –"

"Or maybe she was pushed." Olivia chimes in again.

James looks at Olivia then to Fitz, who has remained silent. He feels there is more to this story.

"Who else was there? Who else was in the house when the incident happened?" James asks, looking at Fitz.

"Everyone. My parents and I were in my bedroom when Sabrina fell down the stairs."

"Was there anyone else in the house?"

"My younger brother, Tristan."

"And where was he?"

Fitz looks at Olivia and she nods, encouraging him to continue.

"He was standing in the hall, at the top of the stairs, when my father took me to my bedroom." Fitz is massaging his forehead. The tension is building again.

James senses there is still more to this story that he has not heard.

"Is there any reason to believe that your brother could have pushed Sabrina down the stairs?

Olivia looks at Fitz for a moment and he nods. And she tells James everything that happened when they visited Fitz' family in Wisconsin for the holidays. She tells him how Tristan attacked her and what he said about Sabrina. James is shocked. Shame and guilt are overwhelming Fitz again as he listens to Olivia recount the story of her attack. He walks to the window and looks out at the sunny day.

"Unfortunately, we have no proof that Tristan pushed Sabrina." James looks over at Fitz before continuing. "We don't even have a body", he says softly.

Fitz gasps and clenches his fists. The thought of Bri being dumped somewhere for all of these years without a proper burial enrages him.

"Do what you need to do, James." He says, not turning away from the window. "Find Sabrina."

"I'll do my best. It's been 25 years and I'm not sure how much evidence, if any, still exists. I'll have my investigator see what he can dig up."

With clenched teeth, Fitz nods and continues to stare out the window.

"Olivia nods to James and he takes his cue to leave.

"Well, I'll let the two of you think about this further. Fitz, Liv, I will get back to you as soon as the investigator finds anything."

Fitz continues looking out the window without turning around as Olivia walks James to the door.

"Thank you, James", Olivia says softly.

"That's what friends are for", he smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek.

 **XXX**

Hollister Brooks is a gruff, no-nonsense private investigator who has been operating in the greater Phoenix area for the past 15 years. As a PI who specializes in investigating suspected or confirmed criminal activity, he thinks he's seen and heard it all. So when his friend James Novak called him personally to discuss a 25-year-old case, he was somewhat intrigued. However, at the end of the meeting at James' law firm, Hollister is reluctant to take the case.

"James, these old cases are difficult to solve. Evidence is usually nonexistent and oftentimes witnesses have died or moved on. These kinds of investigations can go on for months, if not years. It can become quite expensive."

James leans back in his plush, upholstered chair, rubs his index finger and thumb together and eyes Hollister carefully. He rarely plays his last card when negotiating with Hollister or anyone else, but Olivia and Fitz are his friends and he wants to try to help them.

"Hollister, I would consider it as a personal favor if you took this case. And, if you don't uncover anything after what you determine is a reasonable amount of time, then we'll shut it down."

James leans forward on his desk and eyes Hollister intently and Hollister doesn't blink. He knows James is one of the top criminal attorneys in the state and he doesn't ask for favors lightly. This case must be important to him. It must be personal on some level. Hollister nods.

"I'll get right on it. I'll fly out to America's Dairyland tomorrow."

"Thank you, Hollister", James says, standing from his seat and extending a handshake. "I won't forget this."

 **XXX**

Hollister is on the 6:45 am flight bound for Milwaukee. Once he has settled his six-foot, four-inch frame into the first-class seat he pulls out his tablet. It's a three-and-a-half-hour flight so he reviews his notes on the case. He shakes his head at the silliness of it all. Two teenage kids in love and one ends up dead and the other ends up in a mental institution for almost a year.

He reviews the list of people he wants to interview: first the Grants since the girl was dating their older son and allegedly died in their home. Then he wants to find Daniel and understand his role in all of this. He wants to meet with Pastor Drake since the teenagers spent a lot of time at his church. Finally, he wants to meet with the dead girl's parents. Hollister closes his tablet and reclines in his seat for the rest of the flight.

 **XXX**

The Grants' home in Waukesha County is a little over an hour's drive from the airport. Hollister turns up the heat in his rental car full blast as he drives over the interstate. Coming from Arizona he doesn't understand how people can live in this ungodly environment. He glances over at Lake Pine and thinks it's probably a beautiful lake when it is not frozen. After a little more than an hour Hollister drives up to the Grants' home. It is beginning to snow again as he walks up the steps to the wraparound porch. He looks around the community thinking this is why the teenage boy's parents didn't want him dating the girl who lived on the other side of town. He shakes his head then rings the doorbell. Anneke Grant opens the door and Hollister is struck by her cold, piercing blue eyes.

"Mrs. Grant, I'm Hollister Brooks. I called you earlier. I'm here on behalf of your son, Fitzgerald."

The woman smiles and her eyes light up at the mention of her son's name.

"Yes, yes. Come in from out of the cold, Mr. Brooks."

Anneke guides Hollister to the parlor where Gerry is sitting by the fireplace. The house is now too big and too lonely for the two of them. Gerry and Hollister shake hands as Anneke goes to get coffee.

"As I told your wife, Mr. Grant. I have been retained by your son to –"

"Here is some hot coffee to take off the Wisconsin chill", Anneke says as she walks into the parlor with the coffee service.

"Thank you, Mrs. Grant." Hollister sips his coffee and moans in delight. "You make a good cup of coffee ma'am."

"So why did our son need to hire a private investigator to talk to his own parents?" Gerry asks gruffly.

"Well actually …" Hollister begins, setting his coffee cup onto the porcelain saucer. "Actually, his attorney hired me to find out what happened in this house 25 years ago."

Anneke gasps and Hollister looks at her suspiciously. Gerry remains stoic.

"A young girl died in this house 25 years –"

"No such thing happened!" Gerry shouts.

"Sir, your son remembers everything that happened here that night and now he wants answers."

"My god", Anneke mutters, raising her hand to her mouth.

"So do either of you want to tell me what happened to that young girl?"

The couple go silent. Gerry stares into the fireplace and Anneke stares into her black coffee.

"Well let me tell you what I think happened that night. You, Mrs. Grant, got angry when you caught Fitzgerald fooling around in his bedroom with the black girl from the other side of town and you called your husband to his bedroom. You two were shouting and screaming at them and the girl got scared and ran from the room. Is this all sounding familiar?" Hollister continues, not giving them a chance to answer. "And the girl ended up dead at the bottom of the staircase. Your son believes she was pushed."

The Grants remain silent so Hollister continues.

"There were only five people in this house that night when that poor girl died. You, your wife, and Fitzgerald were all in his bedroom. That leaves two other people and one of them is dead. Where's your other son, Tristan?" The investigator asks looking at the couple closely.

"We don't have to answer any of your damn questions", Gerry snarls.

"You'll answer my questions now or you'll answer them in court. You two are an accessory to murder. You might not have killed that girl but you know who did and you helped to dispose of her body. You don't lie for 25 years and never tell your son the truth if it was just an accident. Tristan killed that girl, didn't he?"

"He was just trying to stop her from leaving the house, but she struggled with him. Then she fell down the stairs", Anneke chimes in.

"Then why not call the police if it was an accident?"

"We couldn't let people know – our church, our friends - know that our son was fooling around with _that_ kind of girl." Anneke says.

"You mean you would rather your son sit in a mental institution for almost a year because you were afraid of what your congregation would think about your white son dating a black girl? Is that what you're telling me?" Hollister is angry. He hadn't heard everything after all.

"Fitzgerald had no business bringing that kind of gal into our home", Gerry snarls.

"And you dumped that girl's body somewhere like she was yesterday's trash. What kind of Christians are you people?"

" _We are good Christians. And don't you dare question our faith!"_ Anneke screams. "We made sure she got back to her people – back to where she belonged."

" _Anneke!"_

"No, Gerry! I can't keep this secret any longer. It's been 25 years and it has haunted me every day. It's time to put this to rest – time to come clean. What do we have for all of our actions? We've lost both of our boys. One who is – God knows where. And Fitzgerald, who never wants to see us again. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it?"

Gerry shakes his head and looks down at the floor. He's old now and doesn't have much fight left in him.

"When I saw that girl laying at the foot of the staircase …"

He shakes his head at the memory. He'll never forget the sight of the girl's twisted and bloodied body laying on the floor.

"I didn't want my son with that girl but I never wanted that to happen", he says sadly.

"Who moved the body?" Hollister asks.

"Daniel, our handyman. He drove the girl to her church and placed her where the pastor or someone at that church would find her."

Hollister stands, looks at the couple, and shakes his. He's disgusted by what he has heard.

"I will submit my report to my client. You should expect a visit from the police."

Hollister turns to leave but is stopped by Mrs. Grant.

"Just a minute, Mr. Brooks. I want to give you something."

Hollister stands in the foyer as Anneke walks up the long staircase, which she is finding increasingly difficult to climb with each passing year. She returns a few minutes later with a box.

"Mr. Brooks, please give this to Fitzgerald. Give this to my son. Tell him I am so sorry – for everything", she says handing him the box as tears roll down her face.

Hollister takes the box and makes his way over to Selah Baptist Church. He wonders if Pastor Drake is still alive.

 **XXX**

Hollister walks into the small church and looks around at all of the religious symbols and shakes his head. Christians he thinks.

"How can I help you?" The old man asks as he shuffles from the back of the church. He removes his eyeglasses and pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to polish the lens to better see the stranger.

"I'm looking for Pastor Drake. Are you Pastor Drake?"

"I am. And you are?"

"My name is Hollister Brooks. I'm a private investigator from Phoenix, Arizona."

"Private investigator?" The old pastor asks curiously. "What is a private investigator from Phoenix doing here in Wisconsin - at Selah Baptist?"

The pastor walks over slowly to the man and leans against the pew. The years have begun to catch up with him.

"I'm here to talk to you about Sabrina McDaniels."

The old pastor grabs his chest and his eyes bulge as he remembers the cold December afternoon like it was yesterday. He was taking his daily stroll thinking about his sermon for Christmas when he found Sabrina's lifeless body in the grove behind the church.

"What do you know about that poor child? Who sent you here?"

"I'm here to find her family."

"The McDaniels moved away shortly after their daughter's funeral. They couldn't bear coming back to Selah knowing their daughter's body was found just 100 yards from where they worship."

"Do you know where they moved to?"

"No, I'm afraid not. They said they wanted to forget everything and everyone here in Wisconsin. I can't say that I blame them", the pastor shakes his head remembering the faces of Sabrina's distraught parents.

" _Damn_. I'm sorry pastor. Excuse my language. I thought I would get my answer here. I guess I have to try to track down the McDaniels."

"What do you want with the McDaniels? What question do you need answered?"

"I was hoping to find out where the girl is buried."

"Well, I can tell you that", the pastor says, giving Hollister a why-didn't-you-just-ask look.

"She's buried out back, near the grove. Sabrina loved playing in the grove ever since she was a little girl. And when she got older she would walk back there with …"

The old man gasps and sits on the hard, wooden bench.

"Did _he_ send you here? Did Fitz send you here? I always suspected something was going on between the two of them. We couldn't keep Fitz away from here if we tried. I saw them a few times from my office window walking through the grove. I always wondered whatever happened to Fitz. He was such a nice young man. He stopped coming around about the same time that Sabrina was found. Oh my god. Did he …? Is he the one …?"

"No, no. Not at all. Apparently he loved her very much."

"We never found out who killed that poor child and just left her out in the grove like a dead animal. Do you know who killed her?"

"I'm not sure, pastor. I'm not sure. Thank you for the information and God bless", he says as he turns to walk from the church.

On his flight back to Phoenix, Hollister finishes writing his report. The 25-year-old case was easier to solve than he expected. While they will probably never know if Sabrina tripped down the staircase or was pushed, he was thankful he was able to find the girl's burial place for his client. The client will determine if the details of the report should be turned over to the local authorities in Waukesha County for further investigation, even though they did a sorry job of investigating the girl's death 25 years ago. Hopefully things have changed since then Hollister thinks before nodding off.

 **XXX**

James grabs the report from his desk and stuffs it into his brief case next to the box Mrs. Grant gave to Hollister and makes his way over to Olivia's apartment. As he rings the doorbell Mrs. Teller looks through her peephole and nods her head when she sees Fitz open the door.


	10. Chapter 10 A Bouquet of Balloons

**A/N: For those who are wondering, Mrs. Teller is not Sabrina's mother, but that would have been an interesting twist if she were.** _ **Iloveolitz**_ **, beating Tristan between the legs with a brow brush sounds painful, although he deserves it.** _ **Kkimberly49**_ **, loved your line: "Sometimes you have to understand that talk has to be enough."** _ **Guest**_ **, none of the events of this story has happened to the person who inspired it. BTW, the final chapter for this story will be posted next week. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Here we go.**

 **Chapter 10. A Bouquet of Balloons**

Fitz sits in what has become his favorite chair in Olivia's apartment reflecting on everything that has happened over the past several months. He thinks about how their holiday trip was the springboard for everything now happening in his life. He thinks about their time apart. He thinks about his fight with Cyrus. And he thinks about his returned memory of 25 years ago. He cannot believe how much has happened in just a few short months.

When Fitz remembered Sabrina's death he felt like he had been hit by a tsunami and was floating adrift at sea without an anchor. For weeks he tried, unsuccessfully, to cope with the resulting emotional pain and stress by processing it all with his rational mind, but that only frustrated him more. He felt stuck, unable to move beyond the recurring and persistent thoughts. And, he was not sleeping well and his appetite was nonexistent. Each day he felt like he was spiraling downward. And while Olivia was empathetic and supportive, it was not enough to help him break through the guilt and emotional pain he was experiencing.

James and Michael recognized immediately the symptoms of depression in Fitz when they were all out for dinner one night on Jackson Street. Fitz was obviously not his usual self, not engaging much in the conversation.

"You know, Fitz …" Michael begins carefully. "You might want to consider meeting with Elaine."

Fitz and Olivia look at the man curiously, wondering who Elaine is.

"She has helped James and me immensely to cope with losing Ella."

James places his hand atop his husband's and Michael continues.

"Your life has been turned upside down, Fitz. You are trying to deal with the death of Sabrina and the death of everything you believed to be true about your life."

Fitz frowns and his body grows tense. Olivia rubs his thigh under the table, trying to console him.

"And you're trying to do it alone. No offense, Olivia", Michael says, looking at a concerned Olivia.

"None taken", she says, intertwining her hand with Fitz' under the table

James pulls out his wallet and retrieves a business card.

"This is the information for our therapist, Elaine. Call her when you're ready."

James gives Fitz an understanding smile and slides the card across the table. Fitz looks at the card momentarily before putting it into his pocket.

 **XXX**

At Fitz' first session with Elaine she explained her approach to helping clients to heal, to taking back control of their life. She explained that she uses a holistic approach, attending to the mind, body, and spirit. She explained that, at times, he will find their sessions to be unsettling and emotionally unpleasant so he needs to take good care of himself. He needs to make sure he is eating healthy. He needs to resume his work-outs in the doja and the deep-tissue massages to release the emotions trapped in his body. And he needs to start to journal, to write down his thoughts and feelings about everything he is thinking and feeling. She explained that during this time of transition and stress, journaling can be an indispensable healing tool.

Initially, Fitz was reluctant to write down his thoughts and feelings because he never engages in stream of consciousness. He never just lets his thoughts flow. The first time he tried to write down his thoughts for five minutes, as Elaine suggested, he found it difficult to resist the urge to plan out everything he wanted to write. Frankly, he sat in his chair for almost an hour before he was able to write down his first sentence. That was a month ago. Now he enjoys the freedom to express anything and everything that occurs to him. He likes that it is private and he can unburden himself without complaining to Olivia all of the time. She could not be his permanent sounding board. The doorbell rings, interrupting his reverie, and he sets his journal and pen on the coffee table and walks to the door.

"Come in, James. Have a seat. Can I get you anything – something to drink?"

"No, thank you." James says, sitting on the sofa and setting his brief case on top of the coffee table. "So, how are you doing? Are you back to work?"

"Each day I'm getting better. I'm working with Elaine a couple of days a week trying to make sense of everything."

"Give it time. A very smart person told me that once." James gives Fitz an encouraging smile.

"Thank you", pondering what James said. "I have decided to resign my position at Children's. I can no longer work there under the circumstances."

James does not know the circumstances that caused Fitz to quit his job and it does not matter to him. He just wants the best for his friend.

"I see. Well, as talented as you are I'm sure you won't have any problem finding a position with another hospital."

Fitz nods slightly. He has not thought about the next chapter of his professional life.

"I'll get, Liv. She's in the bedroom."

A few minutes later Fitz and Olivia walk from the bedroom hand in hand.

"James", smiling brightly and holding her arms open to give her old friend a hug. "I didn't hear the doorbell."

Fitz sits down in what has officially become his chair.

"Well, that gave me and Fitz a chance to catch up." He pecks her on the cheek.

"Can I get you anything? Something to drink?"

"No, no. Fitz already asked. I won't be staying long. I have to be in court this afternoon. As I said on the phone I have the results of the investigator's visit to Wisconsin."

Fitz clenches his jaw and Olivia walks over and sits on the arm of his chair. She drapes her arm around his shoulder as James opens his brief case and pulls out the report.

"The investigator found out everything you wanted to know and then some", he says, handing the report to Fitz.

"You can read the details later. I'll summarize for you now."

Fitz and Olivia hold their breath as they listen to James relay everything Hollister uncovered in Wisconsin.

"So, my dear parents claim Tristan struggled with Sabrina to stop her from leaving – and that's how she fell down the stairs?"

Fitz shakes his head because he no longer trusts his parents. He no longer believes anything they say.

"Yes. And unless your brother comes forward and says otherwise, there is no way to dispute their claim."

Fitz grimaces and Olivia strokes his back.

"Do my parents know where he is?"

"I'm afraid not."

Olivia exhales slowly and Fitz squeezes her thigh.

"Fitz, your parents admitted to having someone by the name of _Daniel_ move Sabrina from your house and take her to Selah Baptist. Do you know this Daniel person?"

"Yes. He was our handyman. For years he did all sorts of odd jobs around the house for our family."

Fitz' breathing becomes shallow and he is finding it difficult to remain calm. He tries to take a few deep, cleansing breaths the way Elaine taught him but there is a huge lump in his throat.

"Breathe, baby, breathe", Olivia says as she strokes his back soothingly.

James looks at Olivia wondering if he should continue, and she nods. Fitz is as rigid as a statute. He is not sure if he can handle hearing the answer to his next question.

"Where did they leave her at Selah?" He asks, gripping the other armrest and fighting back the tears."

"Hollister tracked down Pastor Drake …"

Fitz squeezes his eye shut at the mention of the man's name and a lone tear rolls down his reddened face.

"Pastor Drake found Sabrina the next day, behind the church, in the grove."

And he falls apart. He can no longer maintain the façade. He grabs Olivia around her waist and buries his face in her lap. His wailing echo through the apartment.

"Let it out, babe. Let it out", she says, holding him tightly and stroking his head.

"Liv …" He is trembling and crying uncontrollably.

She knows the grove was his and Sabrina's special place. This is where they talked about everything. Deep in the grove is where they both had their first kiss.

"I know. I know", holding him tighter.

Tears stream down her face and James pulls out his pocket square and wipes away his tears too. They all cry in silence until Fitz finally stands from the chair and walks over to the window. He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets, straightens his back, and looks out at the sunny day for a few moments.

"Where is she James? Where is Sabrina buried?"

 **XXX**

Fitz and Olivia deplane at General Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee and walk through the airport to claim their luggage. He needed to go back home one last time. He needed to go back and say good-bye to Sabrina. While Fitz retrieves their luggage from the carousel Olivia gets the rental car, she will drive them to Selah Baptist Church.

Olivia lets the GPS guide her to Selah Baptist, which is an hour away from the airport. They ride in silence, each sitting with their own thoughts. Olivia shakes her head when she remembers Fitz driving them from the airport to his parents' home a few months ago on Christmas Eve. She remembers how he pointed out all of the landmarks and promised to bring her back to see a thawed Wisconsin. It is still surprising to her what happened on that trip.

After pulling up to the church, Olivia turns off the engine and waits silently, allowing Fitz to sit with his memories. So many memories flood his mind as he stares at the church. He remembers the many times he and his friends drove to Selah Baptist to deliver the Christmas donations. He remembers how Pastor Drake always reminded them where to place the boxes. He remembers the many biblical discussions he had with Pastor Drake. He remembers the first time he heard the choir sing. And he remembers the first time he saw Sabrina, the first time he fell in love. It all seems like a life time ago, but yet it also seems like it all happened just yesterday. He sits in the passenger seat, unable to move.

"Let's go in babe. Pastor Drake is waiting."

Fitz wipes the tears streaming under his mirrored aviator sunglasses and opens the car door. The church seems even smaller now than it did 25 years ago, but it looks the same and that brings a smile to his face. He looks beyond the altar, to the choir stall, where he would watch Sabrina sing. Olivia follows his eyes to the altar and squeezes his hand lightly.

"Fitz, is that you? I'd recognize you anywhere even though that mop of curly hair you had back then is mostly gone."

Olivia smiles as the old pastor shuffles over to them. The years have slowed his gait but he still looks the same. And he still has that booming voice. Fitz removes his sunglasses and gives the old man a huge hug.

"It's me Pastor Drake. It is so good to see you again. It's been too long."

"It certainly has. It certainly has. And who is this pretty little lady you have with you?" Giving Olivia a big smile.

"This is Olivia - my fiancée", Fitz says with an even bigger smile.

"Olivia, what a beautiful name", taking her hand between his. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Olivia."

"And you as well, Pastor Drake. Fitz has told me so much about you and Selah Baptist."

Fitz slides his arm around Olivia's waist and pulls her close.

"Well, have a seat - have a seat and tell me what you've been doing with yourself all of these years, Fitz."

Fitz tells the pastor his life's story since leaving Wisconsin.

"I always knew you would do something to help people. He was always a kind and caring young man, Olivia."

Olivia smiles, squeezing his hand again, because she loves hearing stories about a young Fitzgerald.

"Do you remember our long biblical discussions?"

"I do." He nods and smiles sadly, trying to clear his throat. The lump seems to have found its home again.

"Well Fitz, it is so good to see you, but I know why you're here – why you came all this way."

"I came to see Sabrina – to say good-bye."

"I understand. She's buried out back near the grove. You know how to get there."

Fitz looks at Olivia.

"You go first, babe. Spend some time alone with Sabrina. I'll come out later."

He nods, pecks her on the cheek, and heads to the storage room in the back of the church that leads to the grove. He feels like he is 17 years old again as he walks through the door of the small storage room. Fitz stops in his tracks when he sees the lone headstone in the desolate space. Seeing her name and sunrise and sunset dates carved into the cold gray granite make her death all the more real. He sits on the cold, hard ground and has his last conversation with Bri.

 **XXX**

"You're a good woman, Olivia", says Pastor Drake.

She gives the old man a soft smile.

"And Fitz is a good man too. Let your differences be your strength. Don't let them or anyone pull you apart. Always fight for what you want." He gives Olivia a knowing look and she nods.

"You know those two thought they were fooling me back then, always sorting and unsorting the same clothes in that storage room. I even looked out of my office window a few times and saw them walking toward the grove holding hands. It was young, innocent love, Olivia. That's all."

Olivia nods.

"We never found out what really happened to Sabrina - who placed her back there." He looks into Olivia's wide eyes. "And, I don't want to know. What's done is done. You know the police didn't investigate it too much back then."

"I understand", Olivia says sadly. "But don't you want the person who did this to Sabrina to be punished?"

"Olivia, that person has been punished every day since Sabrina died."

She nods slowly, looking into the pastor's wise brown eyes. She understands why Fitz spent so much time talking with him.

"I got what you asked for. They're in my office. Let's go get them before it gets too dark out."

 **XXX**

Olivia and Pastor Drake walk through the storage room, back to the grove where Fitz is sitting on the ground. He has been out there for an hour saying good-bye.

"Young man, you better get up off that cold ground before you get sick", the pastor says in his booming voice.

Fitz scrambles to his feet and his breath is taken away when he sees Olivia holding a huge bouquet of pink balloons with one white balloon in the center.

"Liv … Thank you." He says, looking up at the balloons.

"Thank Pastor Drake, he's the one who had to wrestle them into his car. I just called in the order. There's a pink balloon for each year Sabrina lived. It's a way to honor her life."

"Thank you, baby." He's wearing his first real smile of the day.

"Hold them for me, Fitz. I need to get something out of my purse."

As he holds the pink bouquet of balloons he thinks about how much Bri would have really loved them. He can see her smiling face at receiving a gift that was just for her. Olivia pulls the pink, floral silk scarf from her purse and ties it to the string of the white balloon and Fitz cries for Sabrina one last time.

"Now let them go, babe. Let Sabrina go."

And he releases the bouquet of balloons and they all watch the balloons ascend quickly to the sky and float in every direction. The lone white balloon with the pink, floral silk scarf tied to its string seems to have a mind of its own for it floated straight up in the sky, disappearing beyond the clouds.

 **XXX**

After saying their good-byes to Pastor Drake, Fitz drives to their hotel to get dinner and relax for the rest of the evening. Olivia booked their return flight to Phoenix for the next afternoon since they only planned to stay in Wisconsin overnight.

"How are you doing, babe? I know this was a rough day for you", she says, slipping on one of his long-sleeved tee shirts.

"Come here." opening his arms wide as he leans against the headboard.

"Have I told you how much I adore you?" He embraces her tightly and kisses her cheek.

"Once or twice", she says giggling. And he gives her a deep kiss on the lips.

"I love you, Olivia. With all of my heart."

"I love you too, Fitz. With all of my heart", tightening her arm around his waist.

They cuddle in silence for a few minutes, until Olivia speaks.

"Fitz …" She begins slowly.

"Hmm?" For the first time in months he is finally feeling some sense of peace and calm.

"Before we leave tomorrow you should go see your parents."

" _No."_ He responds quickly, without hesitation.

She remembers Pastor Drake's words before speaking again.

"Fitz, if you're ever going to truly heal you have to resolve things with your parents. I'm not saying you should forgive them ..."

She places a hand on his chest, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"But go see them and lay it all out. Then, at some point in the future, if you feel you want to have a relationship with them then you can. Let the anger and hurt fly away, babe. Holding on to it only hurts you."

 **XXX**

Fitz never thought he would ever walk up the steps to his childhood home again. The old wraparound porch holds so many wonderful memories for him as well as some sad ones. He rings the doorbell and his mother answers. She seems frail since he last saw her three months ago and that saddens him. He looks into the eyes they share and sees all of the horrible things she has done and said. But he also sees all of the wonderful things she has done for him and their family and in that moment he accepts that she is still his mother. He does not know if or when he can ever forgive her for what she has done, so a conversation will have to do for today.

" _Fitzgerald!_ His mother's eyes light up and she gasps when she sees her beloved son.

"Mother", he says without emotion as he stares into her eyes.

"Come in, Fitzgerald. Come in out of the cold", she says excitedly.

"Let me take your coat", she says as they stand in the foyer.

"That won't be necessary. I won't be staying long. Olivia is waiting for me at the hotel."

His mother inhales deeply, nods, then walks to the parlor. And Fitz follows her to the familiar room. As he stands in the doorway he sees his father sitting in his well-worn, leather chair gazing at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

" _Gerry, look who's here. Fitzgerald has come back home."_ His mother gushes with joy.

Gerry looks up at his namesake, who remains in the doorway of the parlor.

"Sit down, Fitzgerald. Sit down", his mother says, flittering around the room.

"Father."

Fitz acknowledges his father's presence as he walks into the room and sits on the sofa. The father remains seated, silently following his son with his eyes.

"I'll get you some coffee, Fitzgerald", his mother says, smiling nervously at her son as she begins to walk from the parlor.

"That won't be necessary, mother. This is not a social visit", he says flatly.

His mother nods and his father continues to eye his son suspiciously.

" _How could you?"_ Fitz asks in disgust, looking between his parents.

The question hangs in the air for a few moments before he continues.

"You covered up a murder and had Sabrina dumped like she was worthless – like she didn't matter."

He glares at his parents and takes a few deep breaths to quell his emotions. He wants to get through this without falling apart.

"We were trying to protect you – protect our family", his mother protests.

" _You were trying to protect your reputation. You didn't want your friends to know your son was dating a black girl. You preached social justice and equality to me and Tristan all of our lives, and you turn out to be the biggest phonies – the biggest hypocrites of all._

" _Watch your tongue!"_ His father finally speaks.

" _You are an ingrate. I always knew you wouldn't appreciate all that we have done for you. We did everything for you – gave you everything – and you were going to ruin it all by being with that girl."_

" _That girl's name is Sabrina, and I didn't care about the color of her skin and I naively thought you wouldn't either. Was everything a lie?"_

He looks between his parents truly needing to know if his whole life has been a lie, if everything he thought to be true, everything they taught him was a lie. They are the only people who can give him the answer he needs desperately.

" _Of course not!"_ His mother defends. _"We believe in everything we taught you and your brother. But what you didn't understand then and you still don't understand is those kinds of relationships are difficult. I – we didn't want that for you."_

"Mother, all relationships are difficult. Besides, we were just kids." He looks at his mother and shakes his head in disgust. "The awful things you said to Sabrina had nothing to do with your concern about how difficult things would be for us."

"I'm not proud of the language I used that day, but we are not racists, Fitzgerald."

" _Then what are you, just murderers?"_

" _Fitzgerald",_ his mother begins. _"Whatever you might think about us, we are not murderers."_

" _But your son is. Tristan pushed Sabrina down those stairs and you helped to cover it up."_ He's testing Olivia's theory.

" _We didn't know!"_ His mother shouts.

" _Anneke!"_

" _Enough, Gerry!"_ She says walking over to her son. "We didn't find out the truth until months later, while you were still in that awful place."

Fitz stands and begins to pace around the room.

"Thanks for that by the way. Thanks for telling the doctors you thought I was using drugs. Thanks for never telling me the truth about why I was in a mental institution."

"We were just trying to do what was best for everyone." His mother says sadly, shaking her head in despair as she sits in the chair across from her silent husband.

"Do you know how all of this has affected my life? How I isolated myself - afraid of connecting with anyone? How I developed obsessive habits that I didn't even understand?"

His parents are stunned. Although the doctor told them how the repressed memory could affect their son, they never knew Fitzgerald was actually suffering. He never said a word to them.

"Was it all worth it, mother? Was it?"

And the tears he has been battling begin to flow.

"Tristan is a murderer, living God knows where. And an innocent girl's life was cut short. And for what?"

He looks at his parents in disgust.

"I will be turning the investigator's findings over to the authorities. It's been 25 years but a crime was committed in this house and you had Sabrina's body –"

" _So, you want to have your parents thrown into jail?"_ His father finally speaks, standing from his chair and taking a few steps toward his son. _"Is that what you want? Will that make you happy?"_

"If that's what it takes to get justice for Sabrina, then yes, that will make me happy." Fitz glares at his father before turning to leave.

" _Fitzgerald!"_ His mother calls to her son, with tears streaming down her face.

He turns and looks at his mother and his heart breaks for what was and what could have been.

"No. No it wasn't worth it. None of it was worth it." His mother says softly, shaking her head. "I – we are so sorry, about _everything_."

Fitz walks from his parents' home, his childhood home, leaving behind so many wonderful and horrific memories. As he walks down the steps of the wraparound porch he is not sure if he will ever see his parents again and that saddens him greatly.

 **XXX**

Fitz sits in the Waukesha County Chief of Police office and relays the 25-year-old story to Chief George Barsky. He gives the Chief a copy of the report James provided him.

"I am finally glad to meet you in person, Mr. Grant."

"And you as well. Please, call me Fitz."

The Chief nods.

"Thank you for the frequent updates on my fiancée's case."

"I'm sorry we have not been able to track down your brother."

Fitz frowns and nods his head.

"Mr. Grant – Fitz, this story you just told me is shocking to say the least. But as your attorney informed you there is no evidence that your brother pushed Sabrina down those stairs. And since he is nowhere to be found we cannot question him about what happened. I'm sure your parents are not willing to give a statement that will implicate their son."

"I'm afraid you're right, Chief. They have a lot of guilt about my brother and they want to protect him."

The Chief nods his head empathetically.

"And please, call me George."

The two men who have been in communication by phone over the past few months give each other a slight smile.

"Is this the same brother who attacked your fiancée back in December?"

"I'm afraid so."

Chief Barsky shakes his head.

"But, isn't it a crime to – to move a body?" Fitz asks despondently.

"In Wisconsin it is a crime to move a body unless you're authorized to do so. Instead of helping Sabrina by calling the paramedics or 911, your parents had an employee move her from their home and place her in the grove behind Selah Baptist. There's no question what they did was intentional and wrong, but it sounds like they panicked."

"And wanted to protect their reputation."

Chief Barsky looks at Fitz and gives him an understanding nod.

"The District Attorney will have to decide what charges to bring against your parents, if any. But I assure you, unlike 25 years ago we will investigate this case. We might not ever know if a murder was committed but maybe someone can pay for moving the girl's body – for not notifying the police. Are you sure that's what you want? I know this cannot be easy for you to implicate your family in this case." The Chief looks at Fitz pointedly.

"What is the punishment for such an offense?" Fitz asks.

"In Wisconsin punishment can include fines, criminal prosecution, and jail time. But that will be up to the DA then the judge, if the case goes to trial."

"I see", Fitz says, nodding his head. "Thank you again, George – for everything."

Fitz stands and extends a handshake to the Chief.

"It has to be done. Please keep me informed about the outcome of the investigation", Fitz says before leaving the police station.

 **Two Months Later**

Olivia is working late tonight so Fitz goes to his apartment to pick up more clothes and collect the mail. He wonders if he should sell his apartment since he is now living with Olivia. He shakes his head because after everything that has happened over the past few months, where they live now seems like such a minor and unimportant matter. The only thing that matters is that they are together and the location and size of their dwelling is a non-issue.

Fitz shakes his head in amazement as he thinks about the amount of time he spent trying to convince Olivia to move in with him. He now understands how this behavior impacted their relationship to the extent of coercing her to move in with him. He now understands how this became his white whale, his obsession. The obsession which apparently stemmed from his fear that something bad might happen if he were not around to protect her.

Elaine has helped him to understand how the repressed memory changed his brain, which resulted in him becoming obsessed with structure, order, and needing to plan and organize every aspect his life. He now understands that trying to structure his life to prevent bad things from happening is time consuming and robs him of the energy to really enjoy life.

As he sits on the sofa flipping through the pile of mail, tossing out junk mail and putting a rubber band around what he needs to keep, he decides to sign up for electronic bill payment because all of the paper is beginning to drive him crazy. He looks at his watch and decides to read the latest issue of _Rafting_ _Magazine_ since Olivia will not be home for a while. He chuckles to himself when he thinks about their first rafting adventure. That seems so long ago.

While looking through the magazine he thinks he should call his friend David. Unfortunately, he had to cancel their whitewater rafting trip to Colorado last year because there was too much going on in his life. As he reads the article on the latest technology in rafting gear, the doorbell rings. He puts down the magazine and walks to the door wondering who the unexpected visitor could be.

"Dr. Heller", Fitz greets his friend with enthusiasm, although somewhat surprised by his presence.

"Dr. Grant. May I come in?" Max asks, displaying his most charming smile.

Fitz shakes his head because Max can never seem to turn off the charm. He steps aside and lets his friend enter the apartment.

"I always liked this place, Fitz", Max says, walking into the apartment and looking around. "I like the _bigness_ of it", spreading his arms wide. "I've often wondered why I didn't find this place when I was looking for an apartment."

"Do you want to buy it?" Fitz asks as he walks from the kitchen with two beers. He hands Max a beer and they sit across from each other in the plush chairs.

"What the hell is going on, Fitz? I hear you almost killed Cyrus. And, you quit your job? Thanks for the increased workload, by the way. Now you want to sell your apartment. What's all this about? And where the hell have you been? I've left you several messages. I stopped by here a few times. Hell, I even texted you. I had that shit. That's the primary form of communication of my new, young girlfriend."

Fitz shakes his head wondering when his friend is going to grow up.

"I'm staying at Olivia's."

"Ahh. So I was right. This is serious."

"I'm engaged. We're engaged", Fitz says flatly.

"Wow. You have been busy, Dr. Grant."

"A lot has happened, Max." Fitz looks at him earnestly.

Max eyes his friend closely and sees a hint of sadness in his countenance but decides not ask any questions because Fitz guards his privacy. He will tell whatever has been going on when he is ready.

"So, are things so bad between you and Cyrus that you had to quit your damn job?"

"I'm afraid so. I won't – can't work for that man any longer."

"I see", Max says, taking a sip of beer. "Well, what the hell are you going to do? Are you going to become a kept man – let Olivia take care of you?" He chuckles.

Fitz shakes his head thinking how much he has missed his talks with his colorful and flamboyant friend. They are so different.

"I really haven't thought about it much. As I said, a lot has happened." Fitz takes a long swallow of beer.

"I talked to John last week."

Not knowing which John he is referring to, Fitz scrunches his face and gives Max a questioning look.

"Scarsdale. You remember he moved back east a few years ago."

Fitz nods remembering his former colleague.

"John's a good man."

"He's now heading up a Neurology Department. You might want to give him a call when you get tired of being a kept man", Max chuckles as he stands to leave. "Why can't I ever find anyone to keep me? It seems like I'm always doing the keeping."

"Thanks for stopping by, Max." Fitz slaps his friend on the back as they walk to the door.

"And call, John. I'll tell him he should expect a call from you – and soon."

"Good-night, Max."

Fitz looks around the apartment before grabbing his garment bag, duffle bag, and mail. He is sure Olivia is home by now.

 **XXX**

As Fitz walks into the apartment he is immediately puzzled by the smell of food cooking, more like burning. He lays his garment bag across the back of the sofa and sets the duffle bag on the floor behind the sofa and walks slowly toward the kitchen trying to figure what is going on. And to his surprise he sees Olivia clad in her sleek, satin loungewear: grey, wide-leg pants and an ivory racer-back tank top. She seems to be trying to wrestle whatever is in the skillet on the stove where the flame is way too high.

" _Liv?"_ He stops in the kitchen doorway and scrunches his face at the sight before him.

Olivia turns around and looks at him petrified. Tomato sauce, he assumes, covers the front of her top and is dripping down the front of her pants.

" _What are you doing?"_ Walking over to the stove and turning off the flame under the skillet.

"Everything just got away from me", she says panicky. "When I read the recipe it seemed so easy."

" _Are you trying to cook?"_ Looking at her in disbelief.

" _Yes, Fitz. I'm trying to cook"_ , now getting annoyed with him for asking an obvious question.

" _Why?"_

" _Why? What do you mean why?_ I wanted to cook a meal for you – for us for once. I have yet to prepare a meal for you that hasn't come out of a container."

"I thought you were working late tonight", still trying to wrap his brain around the scene before him.

" _Fitz"_ , she whines in frustration. "I just told you that so you wouldn't come back from your place early. I wanted to have everything ready when you got home."

He smiles because he likes that she is referring to her apartment as their home. He peers into the skillet trying to figure out what she is supposed to be cooking.

"What is it that you're making?" Looking at the mystery in the skillet.

"Pasta and meat sauce", she says sadly, also looking into the skillet.

" _You put the pasta in the sauce before boiling it?"_ He asked incredulously, without thinking, and her tears begin to fall.

"I'm going to be a terrible wife, Fitz. I don't know how to cook for you."

"Aww sweetheart, don't cry."

He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. A little tomato sauce gets on the front of his shirt.

"You don't have to cook for me", he says, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"But Fitz, I want to cook for you. I might not do it every day but I would like to do it sometimes. Suppose your friends come to visit? They will think I'm a horrible wife."

"They will think no such thing. They will think you are a busy architect who has better things to do than cook for her husband." He kisses the tip of her nose. "Now let's start over. I'll help you, okay?"

She nods and Fitz gets a pot, fills it with water, and sets it on the stove. He starts the sauce in a separate pot, then turns on a medium flame under a clean skillet. He quickly chops some vegetables for the sauce and brings the cutting board over to the stove.

"Now you're going to sauté the vegetables, okay?"

She nods and Fitz stands behind her as she slides the vegetables into the hot skillet. He guides her hand, showing her how to sauté.

"This smells good, Fitz."

"It does", kissing down the side of her neck.

"I'm cooking, Fitz", she says proudly, doing a little jig as she sautés the vegetables.

"You're cooking", now showing her how to pull it all together. "Be careful", he cautions, as she pours the boiled pasta into the colander to drain.

"Why don't you go change while I set the table?"

"Kiss me", she says. And he does, deeply. "You're a good teacher, babe", she says, walking to the bedroom to change.

 **XXX**

"Fitz, that was pretty good", cuddling with him on the sofa.

"It was", kissing the top of her head and rubbing his hand slowly up and down her arm.

"I want to do it again tomorrow, Fitz. I want to cook tomorrow", she says excitedly.

"OK", shaking his head and smiling. "We'll cook again tomorrow."

"So, did you get everything you needed from your place?"

"I did. Max stopped by."

"He did?" She mumbles into his chest.

"I told him that we're engaged."

She nods her head.

"I told him I wouldn't be returning to Children's."

He hasn't told her why he resigned his position at Children's and she won't push. He'll tell her when he's ready.

"Babe …"

"Hmm?" He is full from their meal and is feeling relaxed.

"Do you miss your place? I know you –"

"I love being here, Livvie, unless you're tired of having me around", he says half-jokingly, giving her a slight squeeze.

"I love having you here, babe", she is feeling relaxed as well.

"Liv."

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

" _Sorry?"_ Pulling back and looking into his pensive face. "Sorry for what, babe?"

"I'm sorry for coercing you to move in with me. I now realize that was unfair to you. I now understand why it was so important to me that we live together."

She looks at him curiously.

"After everything that happened in my past …"

He shakes his head. The memories will always be difficult and he is still learning how to cope with all of the new feelings he is experiencing.

"I guess on some level I believed if you lived with me then nothing bad would ever happen to you. I guess unconsciously I was obsessed with protecting you."

She kisses him on the chin and settles back onto his chest.

"I now understand how you could have viewed my actions as controlling. And for that I am sorry. I never want to control you, Livvie."

She wraps her arms more tightly around his waist. After a few minutes of just enjoying the moment, he continues.

"Max might want to buy my place."

" _What?"_

"He says he likes the _bigness_ of it. Wishes he had found it first."

"He's always competing with you, babe."

"You know I don't care about any of that. I like Max. He's a good friend."

They cuddle in silence for a few more minutes.

"He suggested I call John."

"Who's John, babe?" She getting sleepy so she snuggles against him more closely.

"John Scarsdale. He used to work at Children's until a few years ago before moving back east to head up the Neurology Department at a hospital there."

"Mhmm", she's dozing off. "Where, babe? What hospital back east?"

"New York-Presbyterian –"

" _What?"_ She's on her feet now fully awake.

"Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital", he finishes.

"Oh my goodness, Fitz. This is terrific."

"Whoa, whoa. Nothing's final. I haven't even called John."

"You have to call him, Fitz. You have to call John tomorrow."

 **The Next Morning**

Olivia lay on her side and watches Fitz as he sleeps. She smiles because the little strip across his nose has reduced the noise from his snoring immensely, and she appreciates the support the little strip provides. She gives him a light peck on his cheek because she knows he is a good man. Although was was really angry with him for taking her to visit his crazy family, she knows he only wanted to share their happiness with them. She kisses him on the nose, on that stupid strip, and he swipes the air with his hand, and turns his head. She smiles.

Olivia gets angry whenever she thinks about the hell he has been through over the past few months. She gets angrier when she thinks about his family and how they all conspired to hide the truth from him for the past 25 years. But she is happy he agreed to see the therapist James and Michael referred him to. His sessions with Elaine seem to be helping him to handle all of the emotions he has been feeling about Sabrina's death and Tristan's attempt to rape her. He seems to be resurfacing as a better man, a more relaxed and open man. She runs her tongue along the rim of his ear.

Olivia is concerned, however, about whatever happened at the hospital, why he resigned his position. She knows how much he loves his work as the lead pediatric neurosurgeon at Children's. He has dedicated the last seven years of his life to that hospital. She knows walking away has to be painful although he has not admitted it to her. She wonders if the opening at the hospital in New York is a lead position. She wonders if he would be okay if it is not or if he would look elsewhere. She would have to make decisions about her career if he wants to pursue a position in another state. They are engaged and will have to figure out how to balance their career aspirations with being together as a couple.

She slides her hand under the covers and strokes him gently as she kisses down his neck. She is turned on and he begins to come alive slowly as she strokes his balls. She pushes his boxers down his hips and climbs on top of him and begins to grind on his rod. She is moaning in pleasure when he opens one eye.

"Are you taking advantage of me Miss Pope?" He asks hoarsely.

"Yes", she moans into his neck, continuing to grind.

He lifts his bottom from the bed and fully discards his boxers, releasing his hard member. She aligns with him and slides onto his fullness.

"Amazing, always amazing", she moans, picking up the pace.

He grabs her ass and presses deeper into her, allowing her to receive all of him. And he begins to move with her.

"I love you Fitz, so, so much." She is riding him hard and it feels so good.

He wraps his arms around her tightly because he knows her body.

"Yes, yes, yes." She screams out in pleasure.

He rolls her onto her back and slides back into her wetness. He closes his eyes because the friction from her slickness is driving him to his release. He thrusts hard and deep and she wraps her legs around his legs, and the pressure is building in his groin.

"Kiss me", he breaths out, while pumping hard.

Her tongue darts in his mouth and he thrusts harder until his body stiffens and he shoots his juices deep into her channel. He collapses on top of her, breathing heavy, and unable to move. After a few moments she pats his butt and he rolls over, pulling her into his side. They lay in silence for a while, enjoying the sensation of fulfilled pleasure.

"Good morning, Miss Pope." He says hoarsely, kissing her on the temple. "I like the wake-up call."

"Good morning, Dr. Grant. I couldn't resist. You looked so cute. I'm glad you're finally getting some sleep, though", draping her thigh over his stomach as she pulls the stupid strip from his nose.

He pecks her on the lips and she cuddles closer into him.

"Fitz …"

"Hmm?" Their morning lovemaking has him feeling thoroughly satisfied and relaxed.

"I was thinking …"

"Mhmm." Running his hand up and down her back.

"Well, I was thinking about New York – you contacting John."

"I'll call him later, babe."

"That's just it, Fitz. I'm not sure you should call him."

"What?" He stops rubbing her back and looks down at her somewhat confused.

"I know I was excited last night when I heard there is a possibility of you working in New York …"

"But?"

"But, I want you to do what makes _you_ happy, not just what makes me happy. We have to be in this together. I want you to take the time to really think about what you want to do. Then we will decide together what our next steps are going to be."

"But Liv, you're moving to New York in less than a year – less than six month actually."

"I just want you to explore all of your options and not make a hasty decision. Okay?"

"OK. But going back to Children's is not an option for me", he says firmly.

"That's your choice, babe. That's your choice."


	11. Chapter 11 The Assignment

**AN: When reading this chapter it is important to remember the idea for this story came to me during the Christmas holiday. Thanks again everyone for reviewing, following, and favorit-ing this story. The interaction has been fun. BTW, Fitz unknowingly told us who Mrs. Teller is in Chapter 5.**

 **Chapter 11. The Assignment**

 **Prequel**

 _"You want me to do what?"_ Helen Teller asks in astonishment after she is given her assignment.

 _"Yes, Helen. I need your special talents to help those two. They have no idea but they have some difficult times ahead of them and they're going to need each other to get through all that awaits them."_

 _"So what am I'm supposed to do with them?"_ She asks, looking down at Fitzgerald Grant as he walks to the curb to catch his taxi to the airport and Olivia Pope who is rushing to jump into the same taxi.

 _"Your assignment, Helen, is to make sure these two people come together- become a couple."_

 _"A couple?_ _These two will never be a couple. First of all they are both too stubborn. And second, he has buried himself so deep into his work he'll never lift his head long enough to see her. Plus, that old Cyrus Beene has him just where he wants him. But that's not even the biggest problem. He has locked away the truth about his family. Until he comes to terms with who they are he won't ever be happy. He hasn't been home for the holidays in years and he doesn't even remember why."_

 _"And that one, poor thing", Helen shakes her head sadly. "She's been burying herself in her work too. She's afraid of intimacy because her biological parents abandoned her. She never feels good enough so she hides from serious relationships. I don't know about this assignment, sir. This is a tough one. They are both stuck in their patterns."_

 _"That's why I chose you for this case, Helen. You have the best record for handling the tough cases."_

 _"Aww, now you're just trying to butter me up, sir"_ , Helen gushes.

 _"Helen, you know I don't have to butter up angels."_

 _"You're right, sir. I'm sorry. I forget sometimes."_ Helen says sheepishly.

 _"I'm still working on that with you, Helen."_

 _"I know. I know. I'm getting better though, aren't I?"_

 _"This could be the case that puts you over the top, Helen - move you to the next level."_

 _"Yes! I've been waiting for this promotion for 325 years."_

 _"Now, now, Helen. You know we don't measure time up here."_

 _"I know, sir"_ , she says childlike. _"I just get so excited sometimes."_

" _I understand, but you must learn how to control yourself, Helen."_

 _"Yes sir. So now that I have my assignment, where do I conduct my business?"_ Helen asks anxiously.

 _"There, in the apartment across the hall from Olivia's. You will never have to leave your apartment. You will watch them through your peephole and give them advice even when they don't know they need it, or even want it. And, Helen ..."_

 _"Yes sir?"_

 _"Don't overstep. Don't try to change the course of history. Just give them some of that sassy Heller Teller wisdom. These two have something great to contribute to the world and you need to make sure they become a couple."_

Helen's eyes widen.

 _"You mean a -?"_

 _"Yes Helen - a baby. It's been preordained."_

As Helen prepares to take off for her latest assignment, she is given another bit of information about the case.

" _And Helen, there is one more thing you should know about this case."_

Helen looks up curiously.

" _Hannibal has a role in this assignment too."_

Helen's eyes grow wider.

 _"Hannibal Ramsey! That old -"_

 _"Now, now, Helen. Mind your tongue."_

 _"I'm sorry, sir. But that Hannibal uses some of the nastiest tactics when doing his work."_

 _"Don't judge, Helen. Everyone has their special talent. You won't have to work directly with Hannibal this time. I just thought you should know he has a role in this case."_

 _"Thanks for telling me, sir",_ not happy about the information she was just given.

 _"Now go, Helen."_

And with one breath Mrs. Teller is standing in her apartment, on her step stool, with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, looking through her peephole.

" _Humph, all I get is this old dress, an old lady's shawl, and a step stool. In 1320 BCE when I was a dancer for King Tut, I had so many beautiful costumes in all sorts of bright colors._

" _I heard that, Helen."_

" _I keep forgetting, you hear and see everything, sir."_

" _That's right, Helen. And remember, vanity has no place in our line of work."_

" _I know. Sometimes I forget."_

" _Good night, Helen."_

" _Good-bye, sir."_

 **Present Day**

"I can't believe we're actually moving to New York, babe. The Big Apple." Olivia smiles brightly as they sit on the bed looking at the apartment listings on their tablets.

"Does anyone call it that anymore?" Fitz asks seriously, as he swipes his screen to view the next listing.

"I do", she says, not bothered in the least by his comment.

"It is pretty exciting, Liv. I wasn't sure what to expect when I met with John in New York to discuss the position. He's a helluva salesman."

"Well he knows what kind of talent he's getting. You're not chopped liver, babe."

"What really sold me on the deal wasn't just the lead surgeon role, but John's vision for the department. He's planning some innovative changes. He's very forward thinking, Liv. And, although Children's here in Phoenix is pretty progressive, Presbyterian is light years ahead. But, Liv, I'm really thrilled about getting the opportunity to teach - to mold young minds", he says playfully.

"That's terrific, babe. I'm so happy for you. I know it's going to be difficult to leave Children's after being there for so long."

"Honestly, at first I was feeling remorseful about leaving my colleagues, the staff, and my patients of course. But I have no regrets now. It's time to move on."

"Good", she says, rolling across the bed to kiss him."

"What was that for?"

"Because you're a good man and I love you so much."

"You know, Liv", Fitz says, looking again at the listings for the apartments Charlotte emailed them. You don't get much for your money in New York. Living in New York City is definitely going to be much more expensive than living in Phoenix."

"I know. Some of these places are really small. I hope you get a good price for your place from Max", she says, looking at the same listings on her tablet.

"Does Abby still want to buy your place?"

"She does. We had lunch last week and she can't wait to move in." Olivia says somewhat sadly "She wants to keep all of the furniture."

"And so does Max."

"Well, he can't have my painting you bought. That's the only thing I want to take to our new home in New York." She rubs her stomach. "I still can't believe you bought it the day after our first date."

"Do you think we really need to live on the Upper East Side?" Fitz asks, swiping his screen again.

"Well, based on the requirements we gave to Charlotte she thinks the Upper East Side will meet most of our needs. We can get to our jobs easily using public transportation. The bus and subway lines are just a short walk from all of the apartments Charlotte sent us. Plus, there's plenty of restaurants and shopping in the area."

"I don't like that you'll have to use public transportation", Fitz says, now looking up at her.

"Fitz, it's not practical to own a car in New York."

He grimaces and resumes reviewing the pricey apartments.

"Besides, we can always rent a car when we want to get away from the city."

Fitz nods as he looks at another listing located on the Upper East Side.

"Do you really think we're going to need three bedrooms? One guest room should be enough, don't you think?"

"We'll need the third bedroom, babe."

"I'm not sure, Liv. The place on 80th Street has an office space and we can use the second bedroom as a guest room and a second office."

Fitz reaches for his ringing phone and a knot forms immediately in the pit of his stomach when he sees who is calling.

" _Hello, Chief Barsky. Of course, George. How are you?"_

Olivia grows tense.

" _Well Fitz, I wanted to let you know the outcome of the Sabrina McDaniels case."_

Fitz clenches his jaw.

" _Just a minute, George. I want to put you on speaker phone."_

Fitz presses the speaker icon and holds the phone so Olivia can hear the Chief.

" _Go ahead, George."_

Fitz and Olivia hold their breath as the Chief updates them on the outcome of the case.

" _Well …"_ the Chief begins. _"Your parents pleaded guilty to a gross misdemeanor count of interfering with a dead body. District Judge Ian Stephenson ordered them each to serve two-year probation. He suspended the maximum jail sentence of one year for each of them, pending the completion of their probation. They each were also ordered to pay a $2000.00 fine and to perform 50 hours of community service. They basically received the maximum punishment under the law."_

Fitz and Olivia nod as they look at the phone screen.

" _And that Daniel person, your family's handyman who moved Sabrina, well he's done. He's been in a nursing home for several years now with Alzheimer's. There was no point in going after him."_

They nod again.

" _What about my brother? Has Tristan been found?"_

" _I'm sorry to say we haven't found him. He probably left the area long ago. But if he ever comes back to Waukesha County he will be arrested for attacking your fiancée. As we discussed, to press criminal charges against him for the McDaniels case your brother will have to admit to pushing the girl down those stairs."_

" _Thank you, George. I understand. You've been very helpful."_

" _Now we can officially close the Sabrina McDaniels case. Maybe she can finally rest in peace knowing that some degree of justice has been served."_

" _And her parents?"_

" _We tracked down her family in Chicago. Sabrina's mother died five years ago and her father doesn't want to reopen the old wound."_

" _Thank you again, George. We appreciate all of your help. Good night._ "

Fitz disconnects the call and wraps his arms around Olivia. They remain silent for a long while, thinking about what all this means for everyone.

"So, what were you saying about needing three bedrooms?" They have to move on, leave the past in the past.

"Are you okay, babe?" Olivia looks up at her fiancé's pensive face with concern.

Fitz nods slowly and presses his lips to her temple.

"Are you?"

"I'm fine. We have a whole new life ahead of us in _The Big Apple_." She says playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Fitz shakes his head and smiles at her insistence on using the nickname for New York that was first made popular in the 1920s by John J. Fitz Gerald, a sports writer, and in the 1970s because of a promotional campaign by the city.

"So, three bedrooms? He asks, resuming their discussion of their apartment needs.

"Yes, we're going to need the extra bedroom, Fitz - in about seven months." Olivia looks at him and smiles as he continues to look, in deep thought, at his tablet screen.

"Fitz, did you hear what I just said?"

"Mhmm", still reading the listings. "In seven months we'll need a third bedroom."

Realizing what he just said, his head snaps up and she bursts out laughing.

"You mean?"

Olivia is shaking her head and Fitz jumps from the bed and sweeps her up into his arms.

"You mean you're pregnant – we're pregnant, we're having a baby?" He shouts with joy.

"We're having a baby", she says, smiling and nodding her head vigorously.

 **XXX**

After packing up the apartment for the movers, Fitz and Olivia walk across the hall to Mrs. Teller's apartment to thank her for all of the sage advice she has given them over the past year, even when they did not know they were getting it, even when they viewed her simply as being an old busy-body. Olivia knocks on Mrs. Teller's slightly ajar door and it swings open slowly, but wide enough to reveal an older gentleman moving around in the apartment.

"Excuse me …" Olivia says, trying to no avail to get the man's attention.

"Excuse me", Fitz booms, getting the man's attention instantly.

"I'm sorry", the man says, looking up from the box he is rummaging through. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking for Mrs. Teller", Olivia says, glancing around the room she sat in last year discussing with the woman her uncertainty about pursuing a relationship with Fitz.

The man looks at her perplexed.

"Mrs. Teller", Fitz interjects. "The old woman who lives here – who always wears a shawl and knows everything that goes on in this building."

Olivia nods her head supporting Fitz. The man furrows his brow, looking from Fitz to Olivia.

"I'm sorry", the man says, "This apartment has been vacant for over a year. There was so much water damage when the pipes burst I decided to strip it down to the studs and start all over. No one has lived here in over a year."

"That can't be", Olivia chimes in. "There was an older woman who lived in this apartment for well over a year. We talked with her all of the time. She was always looking through her peephole, checking out what was going on. She shared so much of her wisdom with us over the past year that we didn't appreciate at the time. But now we recognize how important she was in keeping us together as a couple and we just wanted to thank her."

Fitz looks intently at the man and nods.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'm afraid I don't know what to tell you", looking helplessly at the couple. "Maybe you have the wrong apartment?"

With mouths hanging open, Olivia and Fitz look at each other, wondering who the hell they have been talking to for the past year.

 **New York City**

As they ride in the taxi to their new apartment in the Upper East Side, Olivia thinks about their first taxi ride together and she smiles. She thinks about their first time together in New York, and she smiles even brighter. That all seems so long ago and she is so happy they were able to work through their problems.

"What has you smiling?" Fitz asks, kissing Olivia on the temple.

"I'm just happy, babe. I'm just happy."

 **XXX**

"Charlotte, you really outdid herself. This place is exquisite", Olivia says, spinning around the oversized living room. "The online tour really doesn't do it justice."

"Well, Olivia it's certainly a gem. I'm glad you and Fitz jumped on it right away. This kind of apartment doesn't stay on the market for very long, especially one that's located between Park and Madison Avenues on of the Upper East Side. Let me give you the _real_ tour."

"As you know the apartment is newly renovated and has over 1700 square feet of living space with seven rooms all located on this private floor. There are hardwood floors throughout and it has the three bedrooms you _insisted_ you needed."

Fitz squeezes Olivia's hand lightly.

"This living room …" Charlotte stops and spreads her arms wide. "Flows into the dining room and centers on this lovely exposed brick wall fireplace."

Charlotte then walks over to a set of glass doors.

"And, you're going to love this enormous wraparound terrace", sliding open the doors that lead from the living room to the expansive outdoor space.

"Such wonderful views of the city", Charlotte sighs.

Charlotte guides the couple back inside to the light-filled kitchen which has all high-end, stainless steel appliances like the SubZero refrigerator, Viking stove and microwave, and Bosch dishwasher. It also has white Caesarstone countertops and custom cabinetry.

"I love this kitchen, Charlotte. All of the natural light coming in makes everything so bright. Isn't it wonderful, babe?"

Fitz smiles and nods, silently wondering why she loves the kitchen so much since she still has not learned how to cook.

"Now let's go look at the bedrooms", Charlotte says, guiding them to the private side of the apartment. "Here is your master bedroom suite", Charlotte says as she walks into the large room. "You can access the terrace from here as well", opening the sliding glass doors identical to those in the living room.

"This is lovely, Charlotte", Olivia says as she walks onto the terrace. I can see us spending time out here, Fitz."

He nods again.

"Now let me show you the closet. It's a fairly large walk-in."

Fitz glances around the closet. It is not as large as the one in his Phoenix apartment but it will do. Charlotte breezes to the en suite, which is outfitted with Calacatta marble, a unique skylight, a large soaking tub, and a walk-in shower.

"You two can have a lot of fun in that tub", Charlotte quips as she leans against the doorframe with arms and legs crossed.

Fitz sneaks a peek at Olivia and rolls his eyes because of the unbelievably forward woman. Olivia smiles because she thinks Charlotte is a hoot.

"Now let's go look at the other two bedrooms, shall we?"

Charlotte leads them out of their bedroom and down the hall to the second bedroom.

"Bedroom number two will make a lovely nursery. You are pregnant aren't you, Olivia? I assumed that's why you insisted on three bedrooms."

Olivia smiles and Fitz rolls his eyes again at the woman's directness. She doesn't seem to understand boundaries. Charlotte shows them the hall bath and the third bathroom that can also be used as an office and guest room.

"You'll appreciate that you won't have any neighbors after dealing all day with the hustle and bustle of the city. Think of this as your private oasis", she smiles.

 **Later That Evening**

"Fitz …"

"Hmm?"

"When are we going to tell everyone that we got married?"

"Never", he says, dozing off in their hotel suite.

" _Fitz …"_ she whines, smacking him on the arm.

"Babe, we'll tell them after we move into our new place - once everything is done to _your_ specifications. You want to have the whole apartment re-painted."

"I just hate that all the walls are white. We need some color on those walls, Fitz."

"Well, after you get your _color_ , we can invite everyone here and we'll have a big reception."

"Including Stephen?"

"Yes including Stephen.", now fully awake. "After all, I got the girl in the end", he smiles and kisses her growing belly. And she rolls her eyes and shakes her head at his cockiness.

"Fitz, my mother is going to kill me when she finds out we eloped", Olivia says, rubbing her stomach. "She has always dreamed of planning my wedding. And my dad – not walking me down the aisle …" She shakes her head at the thought of telling her parents they are married.

"Well, your father would have killed me if he knew I knocked you up before we were married."

She looks at her husband again, surprised by his new vocabulary.

"So true, babe. So true."

 **AN: Starting a new story called** _ **Always in My Dreams**_ **. The first chapter should be posted in a day or so. Follow my new story after you stop throwing rotten tomatoes**.


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